


Mesmerized By the Music

by AAvery



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fic fest AU, M/M, Rated E for the last section, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, can be skipped with nothing missed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23863438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AAvery/pseuds/AAvery
Summary: Jongho had been searching endlessly for two weeks to find someone to play an accompaniment to his voice. There was a showcase at the end of the semester; a little event to show his professors that their time wasn’t wasted on him, to show improvement and potential. Everything just had to be perfect, had to go exactly right, or he was doomed. Ever since his accident, he’d lost his scholarships, the whole reason he had gone to school here in the first place. He was starting to get more desperate the longer he went without someone to play for him. So much so that he even accepted a referral from one of his closest friends. Time was running out and the man that showed up on Yeosang's recommendation was... well... not exactly what Jongho had been expecting.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Jung Wooyoung, minor background relationships - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 144
Collections: Wooyoung Love Central Fic Fest 2019





	1. Chapter 1

~*1*~

Jongho let out yet another annoyed sigh, checking the time on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

Forty-five minutes late.

How inconvenient.

He hadn’t thought punctuality would be too much to ask for. He’d been very flexible while setting this audition up; the person he was waiting for had actually asked _specifically_ for two o’clock. Jongho had rearranged his entire schedule for the day to better cater to this stranger’s requests; and yet, here he sat, two-forty-five in the afternoon, in his university’s on-campus coffee shop by himself, getting more and more impatient as the minutes ticked by.

He’d been searching endlessly for two weeks by this point to find someone to play an accompaniment to his voice. There was a showcase at the end of the semester; a little event to show his professors that their time wasn’t wasted on him, to show improvement and potential. Now, one would think that attending an art-focused school would make Jongho’s search a million times easier, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth much to his chagrin. To be fair, a huge part of this hassle was brought upon him by his own high standards. Not just anyone would do. He wanted someone talented—something that really wasn’t that hard to find at this school—but they also had to be passionate, and wholly dedicated to the music they’d be making. There were hundreds of viable candidates in the fine arts music department, but none of the people who had applied to his ad had what he was looking for. There was just something missing; a certain spark of inspiration that Jongho hadn’t felt with any of the applicants he had already tried out. He knew he was asking for a lot. The time commitment alone was already a huge deterrent for most students and Jongho really didn’t have a lot of money to offer as compensation. He’d been hoping to at least find someone even _close_ to his standards, but so far, he’d had no such luck and it was beginning to look more and more like he’d have to lower his expectations by quite a bit… as much as he dreaded the thought.

Everything just had to be perfect, had to go exactly right, or he was doomed. Ever since his accident, he’d lost his scholarships, the whole reason he had gone to school here in the first place. Only recently had he even considered turning his life around from the despair he’d been stuck in for so long; he’d found a new passion, something that had lifted him from his dark state of mind and probably even saved his life if he were being honest with himself. Music _was_ his life now; if he didn’t have that, he wouldn’t have anything anymore. This showcase _had_ to go well. Underperformers were dropped from the program and if that happened… Jongho didn’t even want to think about it. Anything less than absolutely perfect wouldn’t be good enough for him.

That’s why he was being so hard on his applicants. He _had_ to be otherwise there was no guarantee that he would be returning for another semester.

He was starting to get more desperate the longer he went without someone to play for him. So much so that he even accepted a referral from one of his closest friends. The person he was supposed to be meeting this afternoon actually came highly recommended by Yeosang. Yeosang had spent at least thirty minutes yesterday during their lunch singing praises for this supposed musical prodigy. He was friendly, funny, had a lot of free time, and, most importantly: was very musically inclined and “hella” talented.

Jongho had been hesitant at first. Firstly because Yeosang wasn’t even in the music department; he was a painter and had told Jongho multiple times that he knew practically nothing about musical theory. But there was also the question as to why this supposed musical genius with a ton of free time hadn’t responded to his ad in the first place. There just had to be some sort of catch. Yeosang was planning something or was messing with him in an effort to get him to “lighten up”; an endeavor that he’d been trying to undertake for some time to no avail. But after a while, Yeosang had worn him down. He’d accepted the offer, deciding that if he didn’t like the man, he could just say no and move on to find someone else. He’d always had a hard time telling Yeosang no anyway, so might as well humor him to get him off his back.

His first red flag had been the amount of overly cute emoticons the man had used as he responded to Jongho’s messages. He had absolutely no idea how he had pulled up such a wide array of various faces so quickly and he really wasn’t interested in finding out, either. How was he supposed to respond to only a cute face that was, from what he could tell anyway, throwing sparkles up in the air? What words was this stranger trying to convey with that alone? Jongho had just ignored it, too confused and beyond caring by that point. The man also chain-texted like no tomorrow. So many short one to two lined messages, one right after the other, so fast Jongho couldn’t get a word in else-wise. Why couldn’t he just send one coherent thought in a single message? Was that so hard? 

The second red flag had, of course, been showing up extremely late to a meeting at a time he, himself, had set up. Jongho was still growing more and more frustrated the longer he waited. He debated multiple times, as another fifteen minutes inched by, just leaving and ignoring any future attempts at conversation. He stayed, however, nursing his almost-empty coffee mug as he scrolled absentmindedly through his phone. It wasn’t like he had much else going on today, anyway. Plus, if Yeosang ever found out that he hadn’t actually met with his friend, Jongho would never hear the end of it.

And the third red flag, as well as the final nail in the coffin was… well:

The door to the small shop was flung open, revealing a very frazzled student. A sudden burst of cold air followed him in, drawing Jongho’s attention away from his phone.

Oh no.

Jongho prayed to whatever god was listening that the man who had just entered the shop was not the man he had been waiting over an hour for. When the student’s eyes fell on him, however, Jongho knew it was over. The universe always had been rather cruel to him.

“I’m here! I’m here! Oh my God, I’m so sorry. You’re Jongho, right? Man, I’m so sorry I’m late. I lost track of time, it’s totally on me.”

Jongho could hardly believe what he was looking at, what was currently standing right before his eyes. This was the person Yeosang had recommended to him? The supposed “secret musical genius” and an overall great guy? Jongho highly doubted that for a whole handful of reasons. For one, the man was covered from head to toe in colorful paint splatter. There was paint _everywhere;_ covering his baggy and ragged clothes, in his unstyled, messy black hair, all over his face and hands, and all the way down to his canvas tennis shoes.

The man threw his backpack off his shoulders, grimacing at the loud noise it made when it hit the floor and clamoring into the chair across from Jongho.

“Jung Wooyoung?” Jongho asked, praying that the man in front of him wasn’t actually the person Yeosang had highly recommended… Even though he had just called him by name. This had to be some kind of practical joke. Yeosang had to be messing him. There was no other option.

“The one and only,” the man across from him smiled. “Sorry, I’m kind of a mess. I don’t normally dress this way. I just didn’t have time to change.”

“It’s fine,” Jongho lied. So much for getting Yeosang’s help. He’d have to keep looking. Maybe there would still be time after this to stop by the symphonic orchestra’s practice room…

“So Yeosang’s told me you’re writing your own song?” Wooyoung asked, seemingly oblivious to Jongho’s trepidation.

“Yeah,” Jongho answered. It wasn’t required for the showcase; in fact, having someone play live music wasn’t even required either. He very easily could’ve found a song that fit the theme of the event, had Hongjoong mix an instrumental version for him in what would probably only take twenty minutes, and be on his way. But that was too easy and would certainly send him closer to the bottom of his professors’ lists than he ever wanted to be. He’d made the decision very early on that he’d be writing his own piece and that he wanted a live instrumental. And despite how hopeless his search was beginning to look; he was stubborn enough to stick by his—notably reckless—decisions.

“Ah, that’s so cool,” Wooyoung cooed, leaning his elbows on the table and resting his head in both hands, a positively impressed expression on his handsome face. Jongho sat back in his chair away from him, eyebrows knotting slightly in confusion. He shouldn’t have been surprised by the man’s forward behavior. He acted exactly how his text messages read. Jongho had already made his decision, but Wooyoung clearly had other plans. “I’ve always wanted to write a song, but I’d never know where to start.”

“You’d have to help with the instrumentation,” He said, playing along for the time being. He didn’t know what else to do and he still had time before he had to leave. He wasn’t so much of an asshole to just say “no” to the man’s face and leave him without another word.

“Well obviously,” Wooyoung said, dramatically rolling his eyes and smiling brightly once more. There was a smudge of bright pink under his left, sparkling brown eye, and a yellow splatter on his rounded cheek, Jongho noticed. “But you’d be doing all the heavy lifting writing the lyrics and all that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jongho agreed slowly, watching the man pick at a blue splotch on his wrist. This was all just a little much. How Yeosang thought Jongho would get along with someone so very… loud, animated, and bubbly— everything Jongho just couldn’t find the time or energy to be anymore—was completely lost on him. Yeosang knew how serious Jongho was about this showcase. Why _in the world_ had he suggested this… this force of chaos?

“So when are you thinking of getting started?” Wooyoung asked, still completely oblivious to Jongho’s blatant brush-offs.

“Before I accept anyone, I’d like to hear them play,” Jongho answered. “What _do_ you play?”

“The violin,” he provided easily.

“Do you have it with you?”

Jongho knew the answer to that. The man clearly didn’t have any sort of case for an instrument with him and he doubted Wooyoung would keep what was probably an expensive instrument in the backpack he had slammed on the ground. What he didn’t know, however, was why Wooyoung burst into loud, barking laughter at the seemingly innocuous question. The high-pitched sound drew the attention of many other patrons but Wooyoung seemed unbothered by it as Jongho just tried to piece together why he was being laughed at.

“Oh, you were being serious?” Wooyoung asked when he noticed the perplexed look on Jongho’s face. He stopped laughing and cleared his throat, but an outright offended expression took over his face instead of the apology Jongho was expecting. “Are you crazy? That’s a fifteen-hundred-dollar-instrument. I’m not carrying my baby around for just _anyone_.”

“So how did you intend on auditioning?”

“Did you watch the videos I sent you last night?” Wooyoung countered.

“You never sent me any videos?” Jongho phrased it as a question and just to be sure he grabbed his phone from his pocket, checking for any unread notifications. Nope. There was nothing new from anyone since earlier this morning when a professor had emailed him.

“I didn’t? Oh fuck, I must’ve fallen asleep at my desk again…” Wooyoung mumbled the last part, but Jongho had still heard him anyway. Wooyoung pulled his own phone from his pocket; the screen was shattered in multiple places, seemingly held together by pure willpower alone. He frowned at the device when it didn’t turn on after a few seconds. He put it back in his pocket with a sigh. “It must’ve died because of the cold.”

“Right…” Jongho agreed; he really didn’t know what else he should say. He could hardly piece together what was even happening anymore.

“I’ll send you the videos as soon as I get home,” Wooyoung decided. He then tagged on quietly, playing with a strand of hair matted green: “Assuming I remember. Today’s been kind of a rough day for me.”

“I see,” Jongho said. Wooyoung smiled at him, all bright eyes and sparkly teeth. Jongho really didn’t know how to feel about this interaction.

“Do you have the time, by the way?” Wooyoung asked, drumming his fingers on the table a song that must’ve been stuck in his head. “I have practice at three.”

“It’s three-o-five,” Jongho answered just as Wooyoung finished speaking.

“Ah? No way!” Wooyoung practically screeched. He threw himself from his chair, grabbing his backpack from the floor and flinging it onto his shoulder. “Thanksformeetingwithme, IpromiseI’mnotalwayslikethis, callmewhenyoumakeadecision!”

Jongho barely understood the word salad that was yelled at him as Wooyoung all but sprinted from the coffee shop. And as quickly as the man had waltzed into his life, he was gone, leaving behind more questions than answers.

What.

What?

Jongho couldn’t even piece together a coherent question anymore in his own head. He’d have to have a serious conversation with Yeosang about what the words “great, reliable, and hard-working” meant, that much he knew. He was sure Wooyoung was a great guy and all, but he was just too… _much_ for him to handle. He’d only talked to him for five minutes and he was already overwhelmed; there was no way he’d be able to handle an entire semester with him. He’d just have to keep looking… As much as he hated this never-ending search for the perfect candidate, it was the lesser of the two evils he was faced with now.

He gathered his things slowly before leaving the shop. Well, that was a complete waste of an hour. He decided to just go home instead of dropping by the music department, feeling a little disheartened about his search after that strange encounter.

The walk back home was cold, the autumn wind stinging against every inch of bare skin, the anxiety of his uncertain future hitting harder than ever before. He tried his best to ignore such a sinking, hopeless feeling.

~*2*~

“So, how’s the search going?” Yeosang asked him, breaking his chopsticks apart and getting ready to dig into his lunch. Jongho sighed at being reminded of his fruitless search for the perfect partner. He’d almost put it out of his mind, for the time being, instead, focusing on what he should eat for lunch that was the cheapest option and how he was going to find the time to study for an upcoming test later in the day. Like always, however, nothing in his life was ever forgotten so easily.

A few seconds of silence ticked by between the two of them as Yeosang waited for his answer. Jongho tried to find the best way to phrase his current progress. He was having absolutely abysmal luck, but he couldn’t exactly tell Yeosang that. He didn’t want to dump all his problems on Yeosang more than he already had. Plus, he had no idea how to break it to him that Wooyoung—his supposed best friend since childhood that Jongho somehow hadn’t met before a few days ago—was an absolute mess of a human being. Surely, he had to know though, right? Jongho really didn’t know the answer to that question. He could only hope.

“I’m going to take your silence to mean it’s still going poorly,” Yeosang laughed after the seconds turned to a full minute of silence. Jongho sighed, holding the bridge of his nose in an effort to alleviate the tension growing in his head over just _thinking_ about all the work he still had to do.

“You could say that again,” he said, shaking his head. “No one new has signed up since last Friday. I’m almost out of options.”

“What about my Wooyoungie?” Yeosang asked sweetly, swallowing a bite of food before continuing: “Did you have a chance to meet with him yet?”

Jongho let out a short, almost bitter laugh.

“Yeah about that…” He started, trying to find the most inoffensive way to phrase what he wanted to say. “Are you aware that he’s a chaotic mess?”

“Yeah, I mean he’s definitely different…” Yeosang agreed. He looked confused as he continued his sentence, almost like he couldn’t believe Jongho would find that aspect of his friend off-putting. “But he means well, and I don’t think his personality is anything to be scared away by.”

“He’s a little much,” Jongho continued. “He showed up an hour late, stayed for five minutes, and then left. Left running, actually, because he was five minutes late for a different appointment.”

“He’s a little scatter-brained sometimes and I can see how you wouldn’t like how forward he is, Mr. I-bottle-up-all-my-feelings,” Yeosang teased. Jongho rolled his eyes. “But you don’t have to like him. He’s auditioning to play an instrument for you, not proposing that he’s your soulmate.”

“I know, I know,” Jongho defended. “But I’m still going to have to spend a lot of time with him throughout the semester while we write the song. I just don’t think I could handle that much… energy for three months.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Yeosang asked. “Not just with Wooyoung but to everyone that applied to your ad?”

“This means a lot to me, hyung, you know that. I’m just being thorough.”

“Alright, what was wrong with that one girl? The one who played the piano?” Yeosang asked. Though he didn’t see where he was going with this new line of questions, Jongho played along, for argument’s sake.

“She played the piano, Yeosang. _The piano._ Do you know how many other people have sung along to a piano’s accompaniment? That’s boring, hyung. _Boring.”_

“Okay, what about that Jazz trumpet guy?”

“Stupid question, next.”

“Jongho…”

“Come on, Yeosang. Trumpets are gorgeous instruments, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think competing with my backing instrument for solo time is a good plan. Just a thought, really.”

“Fine, and what about Wooyoung?” Before Jongho could even open his mouth, Yeosang tagged on: “And you’re not allowed to mention his personality because that’s a dumb reason to turn him down.”

“Okay well, I didn’t hear him play so I have nothing new to say.”

Yeosang stared at him a moment, chopsticks poised in the air as he halted his movements and an absolutely perplexed look took over his expression.

“You didn’t—Jongho, what the hell?” Yeosang asked incredulously. “Isn’t that the whole point of an audition? To hear him play?”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I refused to allow him to play,” Jongho immediately defended, putting his hands up in surrender. “I asked him, but he didn’t even have his instrument with him.”

“I mean, that makes sense. You can’t expect someone to carry around a fifteen-hundred-dollar instrument for just anyone.”

“Unbelievable,” Jongho sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. “Shouldn’t he have arranged to meet me wherever his instrument is, then, if he had no intention of bringing it with him somewhere else?”

“Yeah, that would make sense but sometimes he doesn’t have that much forethought,” Yeosang agreed with an understanding nod of his head. “But he had to have done something to show you his abilities?”

“Yeah, he sent me some videos of himself yesterday,” Jongho answered.

“And? Did you watch them?”

“No…” When Yeosang gave him another judgmental look, Jongho immediately began to defend himself once more. “I’ve already made my decision about him, hyung, I didn’t see the point.”

“Jongho, I love you, but you’re being stupid,” Yeosang deadpanned.

“Hey, I—”

“Let me finish,” Yeosang cut him off along with a quick snap of his fingers. “You should watch the videos. He could be the world’s best violin player—”

“Violinist.”

“Whatever, the point is, he could be great and you’d never know because you didn’t even give him a chance.”

Jongho thought about Yeosang’s words for a moment. He supposed there was no harm in just _looking_ at the videos. Just watching wasn’t making a decision, he rationalized.

“Fine, but I’m not making any promises,” he conceded after another few seconds of deliberation.

“Just give him a chance is all I’m asking,” Yeosang agreed with a smile. “You might be shocked to learn that he’s _really_ good, despite his outward appearances.”

“Don’t push it,” he grumbled. Yeosang only gave him an exaggerated eye roll.

“Now go buy food,” he said, throwing a few crumpled bills in his direction after he dug them out of his front pocket. “Before I force-feed you part of my lunch.”

Jongho sighed, standing up from the table but pointedly ignoring the money Yeosang had offered him.

“Fine, fine, but I’m not taking your money, I’ll find something for cheap.”

“Don’t take too long or I’ll leave.”

“Love you too, Hyung.”

~*3*~

The desk chair creaked as Jongho sat back with a long sigh. He pulled his legs crisscrossed, pushing himself away from his mess of a desk and throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, letting another frustrated sigh escape from his lips and holding his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the pounding headache that had plagued him ever since he sat down to get to work. His chair rolled to a halt four feet from his desk, the seat beginning to spin ever-so-slightly to the left. He didn’t bother stopping it.

Why did everything have to be so difficult? Why was writing the lyrics to this stupid song so difficult? He’d _never_ had this much of a problem in the past. Ever since switching his major last year, he’d taken a couple of courses on songwriting and the theory behind it. He knew _how_ to write a song… he just didn’t know how to write _this_ song.

Maybe it had something to do with the theme. He hadn’t thought much of it; love and happiness wasn’t exactly a brand new, groundbreaking concept. Love songs were a staple of music; you could hardly listen to the radio without hearing some version of a declaration of love. Jongho had never been in love, that he recognized anyway, but he’d thought he’d heard enough love songs to fake it well enough.

Clearly, he’d been very wrong.

Nothing he’d produced so far had been even remotely good. It read stilted and sang even worse. Nothing flowed the way he wanted. It lacked any sort of passion. It was fake, a horrid imitation of a complex feeling that Jongho had never been so fortunate to feel for another human being. Of course, he knew what familial love felt like—his parents had always been so supportive and there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for them—and of course, there were other things in his life that he loved, music and his friends obviously. But those loves were different than the essence that he wanted to capture. He thought he’d be able to fake it well enough after analyzing countless love songs and listening to thousands more, but he was still coming up so many miles short, he couldn’t even see the finish line.

Jongho stared at his ceiling, his room dark, the only light coming from the screen of his laptop. He felt so lost. The number of crumpled papers littering his desk and the floor was starting to overwhelm him. So many failed attempts, so many cheap tries at what was supposed to be a full feeling. He knew he needed to take a break and clear his head; he knew deep down that he still had time—three months to be exact—and that he could afford to take his time, but on nights like these, where everything felt so hopeless, there wasn’t a thing he could do to talk down his anxiety.

Jongho let his hands fall from his face, flopping lifelessly against his legs. He watched his room spin by slowly, letting his chair continue to go around and around. His eyes felt heavy, his head clouded as if someone had shoved tissues in his ears. He knew he’d feel better in the morning—everything always felt more hopeless at night—but his brain was still entirely too active for anything even close to sleep. He checked the time on his phone, startled to see it was well into the morning hours of the night. Two-thirty am. He really should be going to bed.

He uncrossed his legs, scooting himself back towards his desk. It was decided. He’d go to bed, or at least try to anyway. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep for another few hours but laying down was better than continuing to stare aimlessly around his room, hoping for inspiration he didn’t deserve to hit him.

Just as he was about to power down his laptop for the night, an email notification caught his eye. Who in the world would be emailing him at two in the morning?

Oh, right.

He remembered now. In an effort to not forget about it, he’d marked the email as unread after making his promise to Yeosang earlier today. As promised, Wooyoung had sent him three sample playings to help Jongho make his decision; though, it had come a few days later than he had initially said they would. At least he had remembered at all; Jongho had almost given up hope of ever seeing the man play by the time the email had finally come in. He hadn’t even bothered emailing to ask for the samples either. Of course, he knew Yeosang would be upset with him for not even giving the man a chance, but Jongho _really_ didn’t want to bother with someone as energetic as Wooyoung. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with it. 

He hovered his mouse over his inbox, debating his choices. He had promised Yeosang to at least give Wooyoung a shot… What if he _was_ an amazing violinist? And Jongho had just passed him by? He was feeling just desperate enough tonight to click open the email and queue up the first video.

He plugged in his earbuds, putting the video full screen and pressing the spacebar before sitting back in his chair. The video played right away, starting off with just a dark stage. It looked like someone had filmed this with their phone; Jongho questioned how well the sound would come through but he kept watching. When the lights flicked on, the crowd erupted into cheers but none louder than the man holding the phone. Wooyoung stood on the stage, much more formally dressed and well put together than the last time Jongho had seen him. That gave him some hope for the man’s professionalism. He bowed to the audience, sending a smile to the person behind the camera before getting into the proper form.

Then, he started playing.

And Jongho couldn’t look away.

He froze in shock, all doubts suddenly lightyears away, replaced with complete awe. The song was a familiar one, a classic, and the man’s technique and skill-level was nothing to write home about but there was a passion, an emotion that captivated Jongho and left him hanging off the edge of his seat. He found himself actually disappointed when the video ended. So much so that he quickly cued up the other two that had been sent to him. Each time it was the same experience.

Jongho couldn’t quite put his finger on why he was so mesmerized. Maybe it was the way he looked as he played; with his handsome features relaxed into such a serene expression. Maybe it was the way he moved as he played; swaying into every high and low of the song with his whole being, feeling the music as if it were actually flowing through him. Maybe it was the way he put his own quirky and excitable twist on such classic pieces; forcing the audience to stay on their toes, enticing them to pay attention, to hang after every note that he coaxed from his gorgeous instrument.

When the final video ended, Jongho slumped back into his chair, letting his earbuds fall from his ears, shock overtaking him. That was it. That was what he had been searching all this time for. The passion, the spark of inspiration, it was all there. As much as he hated to admit he had been wrong initially, there was no denying it now despite all the horrible first impressions he had formed the other day.

It looked like he didn’t have a choice.

Oh, he was never going to hear the end of it from Yeosang.

He grabbed his phone again, drafting a quick text to the man before he had time to second guess himself. He knew it was late—or rather early—but the worst-case scenario was that he waited till the morning for Wooyoung’s response.

[2:45 am] Jongho: I watched the videos you sent me, and I have to say, you’re quite good. If you’re still interested in the position, it’s yours.

Surprisingly—though really Jongho shouldn’t have expected anything less—he only had to wait but a few moments to receive his answer.

[2:45 am] Jung Wooyoung: !!!

[2:46 am] Jung Wooyoung: yea, ill take it!!!

[2:46 am] Jung Wooyoung: ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

He felt immense relief wash over him, calming almost all the anxiety that had been festering throughout the night. He powered off his computer and plugged his phone in to charge after sending Wooyoung another message promising to update him on the details in the morning. Then, he climbed into bed, finding sleep easier than he had in weeks. Maybe things weren’t quite as hopeless as he thought.

~*4*~

Jongho crumpled the paper he’d been writing on; the sudden loud noise drawing the attention of a few students around him in the study lounge he sat in. Another failed attempt at a verse. He brushed it off quickly, pulling another sheet of paper out and staring at its blank lines. He’d been in a better mood as of late; after finally finding someone to play his accompaniment, things had begun looking up. As long as his thoughts didn’t linger too long on all the crumpled papers or deleted files, he was overall feeling better. Even if he did dread being subject to Wooyoung’s overbearing personality without escape for the next few months, it was better than having nothing still. And Wooyoung was, as much as Jongho was shocked to admit it, a very talented musician.

He was waiting in the music building’s study lounge for their first official meeting. He was hoping the man would show up on time this time; Wooyoung had assured him multiple times through text that he would be. Jongho had been unconvinced but was willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt just this once.

Jongho checked his phone, leaning back in his chair and taking a mental break from the strain he had been putting his brain through for the past hour and a half. It was twelve-forty-eight, still twelve minutes till one o’clock when they had agreed to meet. Jongho didn’t have anything else going on today, so even if Wooyoung was late, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He’d just keep working through ideas and concepts until the other finally showed. Normally, on a day like this last year, he’d have practice at four, but these days… He wasn’t really involved in campus activities anymore.

He looked to the left, out the floor to ceiling windows that covered the wall. It was a beautiful day outside. Not a cloud in the colored crystal-clear blue sky. The fresh autumn air smelled earthy, reminding Jongho of countless days spent outside long gone. It was warm for late September and a little humid but not in any way that was unpleasant. The perfect day for an afternoon practice. Far off across campus, Jongho was just high enough to make out the vivid greens of the practice fields through the red and orange leaves on the trees that dotted the grounds. It was days like these that always made him long for a time that was now out of his reach forever. As if to remind him of the impossible, a phantom pain ached through his left hamstring. He shifted uncomfortably, knowing full well that the physical pain wasn’t real; though, that did nothing to dull what he could still very clearly feel in his heart.

“Are you okay?”

Jongho snapped out of his thoughts, tearing his gaze from the windows and his harrowing thoughts. Wooyoung stood across from him at the other side of the table he’d chosen earlier today. As promised, he was no longer covered from head to toe in paint splatter and was no longer dressed like a homeless person, either. When he pulled off his fluffy coat, he wore a plain t-shirt and tight skinny jeans. His canvas tennis shoes had been cleaned as well, but instead of normal white laces complementing the classic black design, he had bright pink ones laced through. His hair, though still unstyled, was no longer a mess. He wore thick-rimmed black glasses now, too, that sat low on his nose. Jongho decided he looked normal, like what he’d actually expect from a music major.

But right now, his handsome features were contorted into a look of worry, eyebrows knotted, and lips downturned.

“What?” Jongho asked, processing the question he had been asked slowly. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You didn’t look fine,” Wooyoung countered, sitting down in his chair much more controlled than the last time they had met. “You looked really sad, actually.”

“I was just thinking,” Jongho affirmed again, avoiding the actual problem. He wasn’t about to go any further into detail about his thoughts to someone who was basically a complete stranger.

“Okay,” Wooyoung agreed slowly, thankfully dropping the subject. It seemed he had more social awareness than Jongho had initially thought. “So let’s get to it, boss man, what’s on the agenda for our first official meeting?”

“Right, well I thought we could just use this time to discuss meet-up times and finalize all the details.”

“Yeah okay, that makes sense. My schedule is kind of all over the place. I only really planned my classes around practice, which is every Monday, Wednesday, Friday from three to five. So really, it’d be easier to tell me when to meet, and then I can get back to you on when I’m free.”

Jongho was momentarily at a loss for words. This Wooyoung was so much more put together than the absolute mess he had met last week. Perhaps this wouldn’t go as horribly as Jongho had initially feared.

“I was thinking of meeting maybe once or twice a week for a couple of hours and we could change that around depending on availability,” Jongho offered. “I’d like to get as much done as possible early on so when the semester picks up, we’re not scrambling for time.”

“Yeah, that would be fine,” Wooyoung agreed with a few very eager head nods. “I figured you’d be super serious about this whole thing anyway.”

Wooyoung must’ve easily read the confusion off his face because before Jongho could even ask the question, he was responding:

“I know ‘cause that’s just the kinda feel you give off,” he explained; though, if anything, Jongho was more confused by this answer than before. “I mean… it wasn’t exactly hard to tell you hadn’t been expecting someone like me to show up last week.”

“Can you blame me?”

Wooyoung snorted, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“That was where you were supposed to deny it, not agree with me,” the man whined, kicking his feet back and forth in mock anger under the table. “Yeosang did mention you were kind of a hardass.”

“He said that?” Jongho asked. It didn’t really surprise him all that much; Yeosang constantly berated him for being too “uptight”. He was only curious about what else his supposed friend had said about him behind his back.

“Well… those were my words not his,” Wooyoung admitted with a playful smile. Jongho sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Jongho apologized, realizing that perhaps, for once, Yeosang had been right. Not that he’d ever tell the man that; his ego was already large enough.

He really didn’t intend on making Wooyoung upset by his initial reaction. He’d been having a rough time lately and he wasn’t always the best at keeping all his anxiety under wraps. He just… _had_ to do well at this showcase. His entire life was riding on his ability to astound his professors and he wasn’t entirely confident he’d ever be able to at this rate. Wooyoung’s talent would certainly help, but if Jongho couldn’t write a compelling love song, no amount of talent could carry them through.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Wooyoung said, eyes going a little wider as he realized Jongho’s very sudden mood drop. He leaned forward over the table, maneuvering to force himself into Jongho’s line of sight where he refused to look up from the table. Jongho met his large brown eyes slowly; a smile overtook the man’s face. “I was only teasing. This thing must really mean a lot to you…”

“It does,” Jongho agreed. He paused for a second, wondering if he should divulge what he’d been thinking about prior to Wooyoung showing up. He supposed there was no harm in sharing a little bit… There was just something about him, Jongho decided. He had a face, a kind of “feel” about him that made Jongho feel like he could confide in him and he would understand. “I need to place in the top ten.”

“Need to?”

“The top ten get a scholarship for the following semester. I don’t have the money to stay here if I don’t win that money,” Jongho explained. Wooyoung’s mouth immediately formed an “o” upon learning this information.

“That’s rough. Man, I’m sorry,” Wooyoung empathized, looking entirely too concerned for someone he only recently met. “Any way I can help out, just say the word, and it’s yours.”

“You’ve already done a lot by agreeing to play my accompaniment,” Jongho reminded him.

“Well, yeah but I meant other things. Like if you ever need a study buddy or something.”

Jongho really didn’t know how to respond to an offer like that so he only nodded in agreement. That seemed to be reaction enough because Wooyoung smiled at him again, drumming his fingers triumphantly on the table.

“Ah maybe Yeosang wasn’t totally right,” Wooyoung said, loud laughter ringing around the large room. “You’re not all that terrible.”

“He said that?” He was really going to have to have a talk with Yeosang about how the older perceived him. What else had he told this stranger?

Wooyoung giggled. The sound was only slightly quieter than his full laugh.

“Don’t worry, you don’t scare me,” Wooyoung assured him with a wink that unsettled Jongho more than anything else. “I’m sure we’ll get along great.”

“That would be nice,” Jongho agreed.

“So you’ll text me the details on when we’ll get started for real? I’ll bring my instrument next time, I promise,” Wooyoung tacked on with a playful smile. Jongho envied how easily such an expression seemed to come to him.

“Yeah, if certain dates and times don’t work, just tell me and I’ll reschedule,” Jongho said. Wooyoung nodded. “Oh, I have sheet music for you, too.”

“Sheet music?”

“It’s the melody I have started for the lyrics,” Jongho began. “Obviously, you don’t have to come up with your part all by yourself but if you want to look it over and give it a shot when you have free time, it would be helpful. And this is subject to change once I actually get lyrics that I like down…”

Wooyoung took the couple sheets of paper Jongho held out for him, looking over them slowly.

“Alright, no problem. Easy stuff, nothing too complex. We can definitely jazz it up,” Wooyoung agreed, giving a finite nod to his own words.

Jongho opened his mouth to say more, but a ringtone cut him off. Wooyoung looked around for a moment, searching for the noise before realizing it was coming from his own pocket.

“Ope, Sorry,” he apologized. “One second.”

He fished the device out of his pocket. The screen was still just as shattered as the last time Jongho had seen it. Guess it really had just run out of battery. Wooyoung answered the call and before the phone was even pressed to his ear, Jongho could hear someone on the other end of line crying hysterically. Wooyoung’s eyes went wide.

“Sannie, what’s wrong?” He cooed immediately. Jongho couldn’t make out what the other man was saying through the phone but it couldn’t have been good if the way Wooyoung’s expression turned more worried as he kept talking. “Alright, I’ll be there in negative six minutes.”

He hung up the phone, shoving it back in his pocket as he scooped up all his belongings into his arms, not even bothering to put his jacket or his backpack back on.

“I’m sorry to run out on you again, but my friend really needs me,” Wooyoung explained as he rounded up all his belongings.

“It’s okay,” Jongho told him. “I don’t really have anything else for us to do today.”

“Alright,” Wooyoung agreed. He practically sprinted from the room after hearing Jongho’s agreement, shouting back over his shoulder: “Don’t forget to text me!”

Jongho watched him leave, and then followed his figure once he could see it exit the building. He looked so determined. Jongho admired his commitment to his friend, whoever that “Sannie” was. He remembered Yeosang’s words: _always ready to help._ Jongho wondered if there was a limit to what he would do for his friends. Jongho doubted there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do, just a gut feeling.

He entertained the thought, just for a moment, what it would be like to be Wooyoung’s friend.

~*5*~

Jongho burrowed his face into his scarf, breathing warm air into his face in an attempt to keep out the cold. It helped only a little; though, Jongho wasn’t too worried. It was more of a habit than a necessity. He was glad he had enough forethought to bring gloves this morning. At least his fingers were shielded from the biting autumn winds.

If the weather a few days ago was the kind Jongho loved to have for practice when he was still on a team, today was the kind he despised. The sky was covered entirely by dreary grey clouds, not a speck of blue in sight. It was one of those days that, without wind, would be bearable but the wind was out in full force, merciless and forcing the temperature even lower. Dead leaves littered the ground, skittering around in whirlwinds every time a new gust blew through. It was snowing, but not in any way that would stick, only to punctuate that it was no longer summer, and winter was well on its way.

If Jongho had a choice, he would much rather spend the entire day curled up in the warmth of his bed, blissfully asleep and unaware of the depressing weather right outside his door. He’d almost succumbed to that temptation earlier this morning, too. To skip all his classes for the day, to indulge himself in sleep that had been so hard to come by lately. He knew he could get away with it; none of his classes took attendance and he had no assignments due today either. Factor in the awful weather, and he had a perfect storm of excuses to just stay home and ignore all his problems for the extra few hours of sleep he would get. But the guilt had won out this morning, and he had regrettably pulled himself out of bed to get ready for a full day of studying.

As he traveled the frigid walkway from the music building to the library, he regretted his decision more and more. He hated the cold. Even though he was a relatively warm-blooded person to begin with, the cold reminded him entirely too much of the reason he wasn’t currently at practice and instead, heading to the library to finish his homework before heading home. He wasn’t particularly cold; his jacket and other various winter accessories were doing a great job of trapping his body heat. It’s just that this kind of weather put him in a grey mood as if his emotions were reflecting the sky above him. It was days like today that an injury long healed seemed to plague him once again.

He shook himself from his train of thought. His ankle already hurt and his spirits were quite low; he didn’t want to dwell on painful memories on top of everything else. He took a deep, shaky breath, the cold air burning his nostrils. He took in his surroundings, appreciating the sight of the familiar walkway. It made him feel better. How many times had he walked this path in the past two years? Too many to count, he was sure. The familiarity of it brought him some peace; he had called this place home for two years, going on three now. Even if the memories weren’t all good, campus would always hold a special place in his heart.

A loud shriek brought him out of his nostalgic thoughts all of a sudden. The noise was so out of place for this time of day and with the awful weather, Jongho couldn’t help but look around for the source. When he found what could only be the cause of the commotion, he only had more questions than answers.

A short way down the pathway Jongho was currently on, sticking out of one of the campus recycling bins, were a pair of flailing legs.

What?

How?

Jongho picked up his pace, noticing he was the only person around to witness the strange sight. When he came up to the struggling person, he recognized the shoes he wore.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. He knew it was a silly question. In what world was being stuck upside-down in a recycling bin classified as “being okay?” He didn’t know what else to say, though. What was there to say? He didn’t find himself in this kind of situation very often.

“Oh thank god,” the man sighed in relief, his voice muffled by the plastic walls of the bin. “I’m stuck! Help!”

Jongho grabbed the man’s legs, barely avoiding getting kicked in the face in the process. He pulled the man out just enough to guide his feet back onto the ground. Then, he pulled himself the rest of the way out, standing up straight to reveal the frazzled face of exactly who Jongho had been expecting.

Wooyoung righted his jacket and then fixed his skewed glasses. His hair was still a mess, but he made no effort to fix it.

“Oh thanks, man. I was—” Wooyoung paused, realizing just who it was that had saved him. A large smile broke through his expression. “Oh, hey boss! Fancy meeting you here.”

The context of the situation seemed to hit Wooyoung then and embarrassment overtook his happy smile quickly.

“So uhh… I bet you’re wondering what I was doing in the trash can.”

Jongho couldn’t say that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but after being exposed to Wooyoung’s strange antics a few times, he wasn’t at all surprised that this was the kind of situation Wooyoung would get himself into. Wooyoung continued on to explain despite Jongho not having said a word yet.

“So I have this friend, his name’s Yunho, not important but I figured I’d tell you anyway. So! Yunho’s an art major, specifically for sculpting and he’s in this class, I forget what it’s called but anyway, he’s in a group and they have this group project coming up. But all of Yunho’s groupmates keep ghosting him but they need to get their materials together by Monday or else they can’t start in class,” Wooyoung rambled on, not even checking to see if Jongho was following along. “So I told him I’d help, and he said they needed a lot of empty soda cans, so I’ve been raiding recycling bins for a few hours now.”

Wooyoung looked around frantically before finding his discarded trash bag full of soda cans. He held it up proudly to show off his bounty, the sound of cans knocking together coming from within.

“I guess I was too enthusiastic while I was looking through this one ‘cause I fell in,” he laughed at himself, scratching the back of his head. “But then you came around and here we are.”

“I see,” Jongho said when he was sure Wooyoung was done talking. Wooyoung had pretty much answered any question Jongho could have asked so he was unsure of what to say next. Wooyoung sniffled as he smiled at Jongho, pushing his glasses back up to sit properly on his face. Jongho noticed how red his nose looked, how his hands shook presumably from the cold. He wasn’t dressed nearly warm enough for how cold it was. He had on his fluffy coat but that was it. No gloves, no hat, no scarf. He noted how Wooyoung was fidgeting, probably trying to keep himself warm as snowflakes caught in his hair. Jongho sighed quietly, his mind made up before he even considered his options.

“So I’ve gotta collect some more,” Wooyoung continued on, completely oblivious. “You were probably heading somewhere too, yeah? Thanks for helping me, again. I’ll see you on—”

“I’ll help you with the collecting,” Jongho said before he could decide otherwise. As much as he hated the cold, Wooyoung was clearly suffering more than he ever would. “You’re helping Jung Yunho, right?”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose.

“You know Yunho too? That’s so cool! But you don’t need to—”

“My classes are done for the day. I was just going to get a head start on some homework for next week. I really don’t mind.”

“...Alright, if you’re sure. I’d appreciate it,” Wooyoung agreed with another sniffle. Before Wooyoung could go back to work, however, Jongho pulled his gloves off his hands and his scarf from his neck. He held them out towards Wooyoung who looked between him and the garments in confusion.

“You clearly need them more than I do,” Jongho explained. He then tagged on: “It’d be hard to play your violin without your fingers.”

“Thanks,” Wooyoung agreed, his voice the quietest Jongho had heard from him up to this point. He took the gloves and the scarf, quickly putting them on as he handed his collection of soda cans off to him. He sighed contently, burrowing his very rosy face into the warmth the scarf had to offer. 

“Man, you are so warm,” he cooed happily once everything was in place.

“Thanks...?” Jongho said, unsure of what to say to a compliment like that.

“Alright, let’s hunt down some cans. I don’t know how many Yunho actually needs but I thought I’d collect as many as possible anyway.”

“Okay,” Jongho nodded. “Lead the way.”

They traveled around the length of campus for another hour. Jongho had been worried at first about the situation becoming awkward but he should’ve known better. What he lacked in conversation skills and the ability to keep one going, Wooyoung more than made up for. He seemed content to just ramble on about _whatever_ popped into his head, however unimportant it actually was. And Jongho was more than willing to let him. He wasn’t a very talkative person naturally—at least not until he was comfortable around the person he was with—so he was grateful Wooyoung seemed to have no problem carrying out a conversation basically by himself. Jongho was of course listening and occasionally Wooyoung would check to make sure; as if there had been times where the person he’d been talking to _had_ just left. Instead of that troubling notion, Jongho would nod that he was listening or give a verbal affirmation if Wooyoung couldn’t see him. He couldn’t say he disliked the time spent collecting soda cans in the cold, snowy weather.

They settled into a routine fairly quickly. Wooyoung would actually be the one sticking himself through the small opening the recycling bins had to offer. Jongho had tried but his shoulders had been too broad to fit through and reach the cans at the bottom much to Wooyoung’s delight. He’d laughed at him for a solid thirty seconds, watching him struggle to get back out until he finally helped him. Instead, Jongho was tasked with making sure Wooyoung didn’t fall into the bin again and depositing the cans Wooyoung managed to snatch up in the trash bag with the rest of them. Nothing they were doing was hard and if Jongho had to describe his experience, he might’ve even called it enjoyable. Well, as enjoyable as such a strange venture could be.

The shrill shriek of a whistle brought Jongho back to his surroundings. He had been so focused on following Wooyoung’s sometimes random train of thought that he hadn’t realized where their journey for aluminum cans had taken them. They were all the way on the other side of campus from the music building, well past Jongho’s initial goal of the library. It’d been a long time since he had been down to the soccer practice fields at the edge of campus. Not since… Well, over a year now. He’d been unable to play since late September last year.

Wooyoung was digging through another bin and Jongho steadied him with one hand on his waist. But other than that, the process didn’t require his full attention. He let his gaze wander longingly towards the soccer fields where autumn practice was in full swing. Even though he had hated practicing in this kind of weather, he missed it. Playing the game, practicing for hours on end every week, the burn of sore muscles, drenched in sweat. Everything. It all just hit him at once; he suddenly remembered why it had been so long since he had visited this area of campus, why he couldn’t bring himself to go to any of his old teammates’ games. He recognized a few of the players, friends that he had talked to every day back then that he had fallen out of contact with now. He thought about waving; maybe some of them would recognize him, too? But then he thought about it again… None of them had bothered talking to him now that he was no longer on the team. It was also partly his fault for their lack of communication, but they were too busy to notice him standing across the street anyway. He didn’t want to distract any of them.

Of course, he had tried to get back to a point physically where he could attempt to re-tryout for the varsity soccer team. All last summer, as soon as his doctors would allow, he was working out, trying to retrain his leg to run and kick properly again. But no matter how hard he tried, how hard he pushed, how hard he begged and pleaded to whatever gods would listen, he just couldn’t. The rupture had just been too severe, the nerve damage too great. He would just have to come to terms with never getting to play the way he used to be able to. He was still trying even now… perhaps that’s why he had thrown himself so completely into his new major. To fill the void with something. Anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wooyoung asked. Jongho very suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, confused briefly about where he was. Wooyoung had pulled himself out of the recycling bin, his arms full of colorfully labeled soda cans, and his nose still red from the cold. He sniffled quietly, waiting for Jongho’s answer with such a concerned expression on his face.

“Yeah.” His voice cracked as he said it. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wooyoung didn’t look at all convinced, just like the last time.

“You had that same expression on Tuesday.” Wooyoung followed Jongho’s previous line of sight, observing the soccer practice taking place. “Do you play?”

“Yeah—I mean—” Jongho cut himself off quickly. He gave up trying to hide it. What was the point anyway? It didn’t have to be this grand secret. “Well… I used to.”

“Used to?”

Jongho took a moment, looking to the field and then back to Wooyoung. There was that expression again. The one that somehow put Jongho at ease, the one that told him he could tell Wooyoung anything or absolutely nothing if he wanted and he wouldn’t judge either way. He sighed, looking away as he made up his mind.

“I ruptured my Achilles last year. It was cold like it is today, and I hadn’t stretched nearly enough. I slipped in the grass and felt a pop. It hurt pretty bad, but I had mistakenly thought I could just “walk it off”. That just made things worse.”

Wooyoung listened intently. For someone so talkative, he was quite the attentive listener.

“So you were out for the season?” Wooyoung asked when it became clear Jongho was finished with his story.

“Yeah, I couldn’t play last year at all.”

“What about this year?”

Jongho couldn’t bring himself to say it. He didn’t want to burst into tears in front of someone who was still closer to a stranger than a friend. Apparently, his silence had been answer enough for Wooyoung because only a few more seconds of silence stretched between them before he was throwing all the cans he had in his arms to the ground, each of them clanging loudly against the sidewalk, to instead wrap his arms around Jongho as tightly as he could manage. Jongho caught him out of surprise, stumbling back a step before regaining his balance.

“You were here on a sports scholarship too, weren’t you? That’s why you need the money?” Wooyoung cried, sounding almost as heartbroken as Jongho felt. Wooyoung gripped Jongho tighter. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t even imagine.”

“It’s okay,” Jongho tried, awkwardly patting Wooyoung’s back. He didn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t very big on physical contact like this. He knew Wooyoung was only trying to comfort him, though, so he didn’t push him away despite how uncomfortable he felt.

Wooyoung let go soon after, pushing his glasses up as he wiped at his eyes. Jongho watched him in amazement.

“Are you… crying?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“No!” Wooyoung retorted quickly. “A snowflake got in my eye!”

The sniffle at the end of his sentence did little to convince Jongho.

“It’s okay, really,” Jongho tried again. “I’m really passionate about music too, it’s just that sometimes I miss playing is all.”

“We’re gonna win you that showcase,” Wooyoung said determinately, a fire behind his eyes.

“Okay,” Jongho agreed, a small smile breaking across his lips. Wooyoung returned the expression ten times as bright. What a strange guy. To hear Jongho’s story and start crying for him… Jongho was sure he would never fully understand everything there was to know about one Jung Wooyoung.

“So uhh… I think we have enough cans,” Wooyoung started, looking at all the scattered cans on the ground at his feet. “Do you want to grab a coffee to warm up? You were heading to the library before this anyway, right?”

Hot coffee sounded nice. His own nose was starting to run now, his hands beginning to feel the nip of numbness at their tips. He still had some work to get done before the weekend, too.

“Okay,” he agreed. Wooyoung broke out into a bright smile once more.

They picked back up the cans, collecting them for their stash before meandering their way back to the library; Wooyoung filling the silence with unimportant ramblings and Jongho more than happy to just listen the entire way.


	2. Chapter 2

~*6*~

Jongho stood in front of a smooth, black door, a silver plaque displaying the numbers 426 hanging perfectly in the middle. He shuffled his weight from foot to foot, resisting the urge to check his phone to verify the address for the fifth time since he arrived. He knew he was in the right place, standing in front of the correct door, but he just couldn’t help the pinpricks of anxiety plaguing his stomach. He raised his hand to knock on the sleek wood, hesitating only a moment before forcing a surge of confidence through his limbs.

Wooyoung had messaged him earlier today, requesting that they meet at his apartment to work on the song instead of on-campus in the music department’s study rooms like they had been doing up to this point. He had explained that, due to a last-minute commitment, he wouldn’t be able to make it back on campus in time to get any substantial work done. Jongho had suggested they just reschedule; he could find something else to fill his time with surely. Wooyoung had countered by inviting Jongho over to his place if he was willing to travel a ways off-campus. They both had busy schedules for the next few days, today was the only day that worked for both of them. Jongho had been apprehensive at first but ultimately agreed with the man’s reasoning; he already had the free time anyway, having cleared his schedule for this meet-up in the first place.

Thankfully, Wooyoung had given him a few hours notice; the man lived surprisingly far away from campus. No wonder he wouldn’t have been able to meet up with Jongho at their discussed time. Jongho had to catch a train, the apartment too far away from campus to justify walking in the bitter cold.

So a thirty-minute train ride and a brisk two-minute walk through the cold later found Jongho in front of Wooyoung’s door. He knocked on it finally, having to wait only a few moments for his anxiety to be extinguished.

“I got it!” He heard what could only be Wooyoung’s voice shout from the other side of the door followed by a loud series of bangs and crashes as the man presumably tripped over a few things in his hurry. Jongho rolled his eyes, giving a light chuckle. Yeah, he was in the right place.

“Oh hello,” someone who was very clearly not Wooyoung answered the door, however. As far as Jongho remembered, Wooyoung wasn’t quite as tall and lanky as the man who answered the door, nor did he have a deeper, calmer voice. It took Jongho a few seconds to place the familiar face. He saw Hongjoong quite often around the music department, but it wasn’t every day that he came face to face with the man’s fiancé.

“Oh, Seonghwa-hyung, it’s good to see you again,” Jongho said before confusion set it. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” Seonghwa said with a friendly smile. The expression quickly fell off his face, however, as Wooyoung began shouting from further inside the apartment.

“Who is it?!” He yelled. Jongho saw an eyebrow twitch on Seonghwa’s face as he sighed in annoyance.

“Stop shouting, you gremlin,” Seonghwa hissed back. He stepped to the side to properly give the man a judgmental glare, revealing what was happening on the inside. Wooyoung was sprawled out on the floor—probably where he had tripped in in his initial attempt to answer the door—twisting at a weird angle to try and see behind him. “And get off the floor! I just cleaned that. I swear to god if you get dye everywhere, I’m not cleaning it for you. That isn’t apart of the deal.”

“Aww man,” Wooyoung whined, pulling himself off the ground reluctantly and joining the pair of them at the door. “You’re no fun, hyung, after everything I’ve sacrificed for you.”

As Wooyoung approached, Jongho suddenly felt very confused. There was something… not quite normal about the way the man currently looked. Seonghwa was dressed normally; though a second glance showed that his hands were stained purple in a few spots and his bangs were clipped back out of his eyes. Wooyoung, however, was another matter entirely, clothed in a fluffy, pink bathrobe with a towel of the same color wrapped around his head. He didn’t have his glasses on; instead, a green face mask covered his skin.

This was… not what he had been expecting.

Though to be fair, he shouldn’t be expecting anything normal to come from the strange man by this point anyway.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Jongho asked, feeling a little like he was invading or something. “I’m a little early but—”

“Nah, Seonghwa was just about to leave. Right, hyung?” Wooyoung said cheerfully, clapping Seonghwa on the shoulder. “Get out of the way, hyung, let him in.”

Seonghwa scoffed but did as Wooyoung asked of him, stepping aside to both let Jongho in and to grab a duffle bag placed on the floor next to the door.

“I suppose that’s my cue, then,” Seonghwa sighed, taking Jongho’s previous spot just outside. “Your hair should be done in another few minutes, don’t forget to—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Bye, hyung!” Wooyoung dismissed, slamming the door shut right in Seonghwa’s face and cutting off whatever other instructions he was about to give him.

“That was kinda rude,” Jongho pointed out, watching Wooyoung paddle barefoot further into his home.

“Ah, he’s used to it,” Wooyoung brushed off, waving a dismissive hand over his shoulder. “Serves him right after what he put my hair through.”

Jongho slipped his shoes off before following after Wooyoung into what he guessed was the living room. Everything was a lot cleaner than Jongho had been imagining. The kitchen was spotless, a few platters of food expertly laid out on the counter. The living room was perfectly put together, fluffed pillows on the couch, and coasters laid out on the coffee table next to an organized stack of textbooks and papers. Jongho couldn’t even see a speck of dust or dirt on the dark, hardwood floors. They practically sparkled in the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. It was very classy, very modern with touches of quirky accents that just didn’t belong, like the proudly displayed BTS albums above the television or the collage of brightly colored paintings—that Jongho recognized to be Yeosang’s work—seemingly plastered at random around the room. It all came together, though, into one well-lived in apartment. It was all… very Wooyoung. Even if it was uncharacteristically clean.

“I need to go take a shower real quick if that’s okay. This dye is making my eyes sting.”

“Dye?” Jongho asked, momentarily confused by what Wooyoung meant.

“Oh yeah, I dyed my hair today for the first time ever… well, actually, Seonghwa dyed my hair but eh... same difference really,” Wooyoung explained, leaning on his spotless counter comfortably, acting as if he met a lot of people in only a bathrobe and a skincare mask. As if this was nothing new for him at all. Jongho, sadly, could not say the same was true for him.

“How do you know Seonghwa-hyung?” Jongho asked next, taking a few steps to stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of how to act in Wooyoung’s home. He and Wooyoung had met a few times in the last week to work on Jongho’s song but he wouldn’t call the two of them friends. More like… acquaintances or… coworkers. He wasn’t quite sure how comfortable he could be with Wooyoung’s place of residence.

“He’s your hyung, too?” Wooyoung asked instead of answering Jongho’s question. He had a look of awe on his face as if this knowledge actually shocked him.

“Yeah? Why are you so surprised? I’m only a third year,” Jongho said.

“What? No way!” Wooyoung whined dramatically. “I thought you were older than me this whole time! You act so serious all the time, I can’t even get you to crack a smile, god forbid even _laugh_. But it turns out _I’m_ older than _you_!”

“So you’re a senior then?” Jongho asked.

“That’s right,” Wooyoung agreed with a proud smile, puffing out his chest. Always so dramatic. “I’ll be graduating next semester.”

“Ah congratulations,” Jongho said, unsure of what else to contribute. It seemed to be enough for Wooyoung, who beamed brightly back at him.

“So if I’m older than you, you should call me hyung, right?” Wooyoung asked, cocking his head and looking at Jongho with bright eyes, a smile tugging at his lips once more. 

“Uhh, I don’t know…” Jongho said slowly, averting his eyes.

“But you call Seonghwa hyung,” he pouted.

“I’ve known Seonghwa since I started school,” Jongho defended. He had actually met Hongjoong first; the man had been his TA in his introductory vocal courses that he’d taken to pad out his schedule initially. But wherever Hongjoong went, Seonghwa was never far behind so Jongho had gotten acquainted with him soon after befriending Hongjoong. Seonghwa wasn’t in the same department as Hongjoong and Jongho—he was going into the beauty industry—but he was a very versatile individual, always helping with Hongjoong’s work and making sure he took breaks to eat and sleep every once in a while.

“Oh I see, maybe eventually then,” Wooyoung decided, dropping the subject. Jongho wondered if he had noticed how uncomfortable he had been just then. “Seonghwa occasionally joins us for practice, as an outlet, you know? So I’ve known him and Hongjoong since forever, too. Kinda strange that we never met before a few weeks ago with how many friends we share.”

“I don’t go out very often.”

“Now that, I believe,” Wooyoung laughed.

“Why did Seonghwa dye your hair?” Jongho asked next, slowly piecing together the strange scene he had walked into.

“He messaged me complaining this morning about not having enough practice with light colors, so I offered up my lovely head of hair,” Wooyoung explained. “In return, he cleaned my apartment and made dinner. He’d make such a great housewife.”

“And the facemask?”

“Oh! He got angry about the condition of my skin. He’s a strange man, I’m sure you know what I mean. Who am I to turn down a free facial, though? Even if Seonghwa wasn’t very gentle…”

“Maybe if you weren’t so loud…”

Wooyoung stared at him a moment, awe back on his face.

“Was that a joke?” Wooyoung asked. “Is the stoic Jongho teasing me right now?”

“Don’t make such a big deal about it,” Jongho tried to dismiss, looking away from the man. “I am a human being, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Wooyoung teased right back, leaning forward with a playful smile, one that Jongho couldn’t help but return… on a much smaller scale, of course. Wooyoung clapped his hands together in success but otherwise said nothing more about Jongho’s rare emotional response. “Okay! Time for my shower now since you showed up so early. I’m sorry to make you wait…”

“It’s okay,” Jongho waved off. “I can just work on some homework. I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’ll be quick,” Wooyoung promised, walking towards the door that probably led to his bedroom and bathroom. “You can have that food on the counter if you haven’t eaten. I had Seonghwa make extra when you agreed to meet me here.”

“Oh… thanks,” Jongho agreed gratefully, having skipped lunch to better clear his schedule to meet up with Wooyoung.

“No problem,” Wooyoung waved over his shoulder. He then added before he left: “And a word of advice? Smile more, it suits you.”

If Wooyoung expected Jongho to respond to that comment, he didn’t give him a chance; instead, going through the door to his bedroom and closing it behind him.

He’d consider it, he thought with a little reluctance, given that he had a reason to smile in the first place anyway. It wasn’t the first time someone had told him he should smile more. Usually, it was Yeosang telling him to lighten up; something about the way Wooyoung had told him, however, made him want to put forth more of an effort.

Jongho sat his backpack on the floor next to the counter, taking out the homework he still had to do for tomorrow before sliding into a seat and making himself comfortable. He heard running water through the wall as he looked over the meal Wooyoung had Seonghwa make in exchange for his head of hair. He felt rather touched, looking over the delicious assortment of food. Wooyoung had thought about him enough to set aside some food for him? Seonghwa had always made really delicious food so he really appreciated Wooyoung’s forethought. Jongho had to give him credit; he was a lot less scatter-brained than he had initially judged.

He steadily ate through the meal, savoring each bite—as it was his first meal of the day—and working through his assignments. He heard the shower shut off after about half-way through his meal, but the sound of a blow-dryer replaced it soon after. Fifteen minutes, a full meal, and one math assignment later found the bedroom door opening back up and Wooyoung remerging with his violin case in tow. True to his word, Wooyoung had been quick.

He wore clothes now—much to Jongho’s relief—a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His thick-rimmed glasses were back on his face and his skin had a light blush due to the heat of the water. But it was his hair that drew Jongho’s attention. Perfectly straight. Unstyled. Fluffy. Unbelievably soft looking and colored a brand new and very pretty lilac. It complemented his tan skin so very well, making his already large brown eyes pop more, even from behind his glasses.

“Do you like it?” Wooyoung asked, twirling a lock between two fingers as he approached the counter to join Jongho. Jongho cleared his throat, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. He’d just been staring, openly staring. Wooyoung hadn’t noticed at least or just hadn’t said anything thankfully. Nothing could be done about it, however. Wooyoung just looked… Jongho didn’t even want to admit it to himself, let alone out loud, but he looked—dare he say—positively cute.

“It’s nice,” Jongho settled on a response, averting his gaze before he did anything more to embarrass himself. “The color suits you.”

“That’s what Seonghwa said when he picked it,” Wooyoung agreed with a smile before looking to Jongho’s empty dinner plates. “You ate fast.”

“I hadn’t eaten yet today,” Jongho admitted quietly. Wooyoung tsked.

“I figured as much,” he sighed, placing the dishes in the sink, before popping open his instrument’s case to begin the real reason Jongho had come over in the first place. “Shall we get started?”

“Yeah,” Jongho agreed, nodding his head and trying his best to put strange and invasive thoughts about lovely purple hair out of his mind.

~*7*~

“I just don’t know why I’m having such a hard time with these lyrics,” Jongho complained for what felt like the hundredth time. It was all he ever complained about anymore it seemed. This was the first Mingi was hearing of these complaints, however—at least the first time he was hearing them from the source—so Jongho was holding nothing back.

Mingi was a year ahead of him, studying how to produce music and Hongjoong’s self-proclaimed protégé. That’s how Jongho had met the man last semester. If Hongjoong was working, Mingi was always lurking somewhere close by to “absorb his expertise” as he always said.

Today, Mingi had raided the study room Jongho had managed to reserve for the afternoon. Jongho had been hoping to get some work done on the song before Wooyoung showed up to write more of the backing instrumental when Mingi had burst in excitedly, stating that it’s been so long since they’d hung out. Jongho didn’t much mind Mingi being here. Despite his loud personality, the man really was a genius and whether or not he intended to or not when he entered Jongho’s room, he could potentially offer some valuable insight.

“Oh! I have an idea!” Mingi exclaimed, pushing off the table so that his chair started spinning. Jongho watched him, wondering why this was how he had decided to spend his time. “You could just fall in love, get some experience, _and then_ write the song.”

“Mingi, you’re a genius. How did such a great idea never cross my mind before?” Jongho deadpanned, rubbing at his forehead in an attempt to alleviate the growing pressure before it developed into a full headache.

“It was a valid suggestion,” Mingi grumbled, his chair spinning slower now.

“And who do you suppose I fall in love with? Are you offering?” Jongho shot back. Mingi wrinkled his nose in clear distaste before giving himself another push off the table, spinning around and around all over again.

“No,” he decided. 

“Didn’t think so,” Jongho huffed. “As if anyone could just ‘fall in love’ on command anyway.”

He had thought about it, though he condemned the idea now. It made sense in theory. He didn’t have the necessary experience to write what he wanted and trying to fake it wasn’t working for him either, so it only made sense that he should go out and try to gain such experience. But that’s where that idea ended. He couldn’t just go out one day and obtain love experience, definitely not the kind he wanted anyway. And it wasn’t like he had anyone in his life already that could potentially fit that category, either. He hadn’t ever _needed_ to have that kind of experience before now. Sure, there’d been a want in the past and of course, he’d felt romantic inclinations towards other people before but there had never been enough time. Between training to stay in shape for his scholarship and studying to keep his grades above average, there wasn’t time for much else besides eating and sleeping. Yes, Jongho had more now that he was no longer on the varsity soccer team but by this point, he had little hope of finding anyone to fall in love with by the end of the semester. Even if he could find someone, how shallow a reason to look for love was that? Simply for the experience, only to write a good song? His hypothetical significant other deserved better than that. So he would just keep trying to write something worthwhile—or at least good enough to pass—without any of the experience that would certainly help him.

“Well you’re not gonna find anyone with that attitude,” Mingi chastised, finally allowing his chair to stop spinning and instead, leaning on the table. “Maybe if you smiled more, you’d have had a date by now at least.”

He was suddenly reminded of the conversation with Wooyoung from the other day. _Smile more, it suits you._ Jongho put that thought out of his mind, instead, rolling his eyes at what advice Mingi had to offer him.

“I don’t need or necessarily _want_ a date,” Jongho decided. “So getting one just to help with my song isn’t an option.”

“So do you just want to cover a song instead?” Mingi asked, picking up a few pieces of paper and looking over what Jongho had scrawled across their lines before adding: “Because these… Well, I hate to say it, but these aren’t very good.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jongho sighed, resting his face in his hands, defeated. “But Wooyoung still thinks we can pull it off.”

“Hmm,” Mingi hummed, eyes reading over every line Jongho had painstakingly tried—and failed—to create. Mingi began to read off a line: “That’s what makes me move, that’s what makes me breathe, all those times with you… hey, that’s not half bad…”

“That’s a step up from ‘not very good’,” Jongho laughed, grabbing the paper Mingi had found those lyrics on. He had written those last night, if he remembered correctly, probably way earlier in the morning than he should’ve been awake in between test messages from Wooyoung, who had taken it upon himself to give Jongho the play by play of his stream of consciousness. Not that Jongho much minded the sometimes-random messages; it was nice to have someone to talk to when he just couldn’t sleep no matter what he did, even if Wooyoung’s messages became less and less coherent as the night stretched on. But if staying up so late gave him good lyrics, he’d do it more often. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and all that. “I can work with these, I guess.”

“Yeah, I think you could put this as your lead up to the chorus, keep up the theme of “only wanna be with you” and then—” Mingi froze all of a sudden, a look of absolute terror slowly taking over his face. Jongho felt lost until he realized that Mingi’s gaze was focused on something behind him. “Eek!”

He shrieked, high-pitched and very loud as he pushed away from the desk and threw himself under it. Jongho blinked at the now empty chair as it rolled away from the table due to the force at which Mingi had catapulted himself out of sight.

He heard a knock at the door then, drawing his attention away from whatever _that_ just was. He caught sight of Wooyoung through the glass paneling and waved him in. But that couldn’t have been why Mingi had reacted in such a way. It must’ve been in response to the person Wooyoung had with him.

When Wooyoung walked into the room, however, Jongho forgot all about Mingi’s odd behavior—forgot about most things if he were being honest—as he quite literally did a double-take, thinking his eyes had deceived him the first time. They had not, he decided, catching himself before he started openly staring like the last time he had been shocked by the man’s appearance.

Jongho wasn’t sure why Wooyoung was dressed as if he had just come from a party for millionaires but he sure looked _very_ expensive. He wore a silk black shirt with the buttons open as low as he could have them and still be considered appropriate for public wear. Over the shirt, a long blue and silver flannel overcoat covered his shoulders. His legs were clad in the tightest black leather pants Jongho had ever seen; they looked practically spray-painting on with double black lines up the side making his legs look that much longer. He had numerous pieces of jewelry adorning his person: a black choker around his neck, a slightly looser silver chain hanging there as well, multiple piercings in both ears sparkled silver, a few dangling earrings, a few rings, a few simple studs. His pretty purple hair was styled up out of his face, making his features look that much more striking and angular. Jongho wasn’t an expert but he was pretty sure Wooyoung had makeup on as well, making his skin look even more flawless and radiant than it usually did. The eye shadow and liner around his eyes made them pop so well. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, so his eyes looked so very sharp and absolutely captivating.

He had never seen Wooyoung in this light before. The man always wore baggy t-shirts and even baggier sweatpants—or the occasional pair of skinny jeans that had definitely seen better days—along with his ridiculously fluffy winter coat. None of his usual attire flattered his figure well, to say the very least. Sure, Jongho had always recognized that Wooyoung was objectively good-looking, handsome, cute. Whatever adjective one wanted to use. But this… he felt like he was being beaten over the head with a whole new list of slightly different adjectives. Hot. Alluring. Sexy. To name a few… just objectively speaking, of course.

He tore his eyes away again, hoping no one noticed that he couldn’t help but look the man up and down a few times. Mingi sure hadn’t at least. He was still under the table despite the fact the two newcomers could clearly see him from where they stood.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to finish helping Sannie with his photoshoot,” Wooyoung began explaining, snapping Jongho out of his spiraling thoughts. Wooyoung pointed to the fully-grown man hiding under the table with a look of confusion on his face before continuing. Jongho only shrugged with a tired eye roll, answering Wooyoung’s unasked question with a wordless response of his own. “Sannie”, Jongho presumed, didn’t react at all to Mingi’s completely obvious hiding spot, strangely enough. He only continued standing next to Wooyoung, without a word. How… Odd. “That’s why I look like this. I didn’t have time to change.”

“You look nice,” Jongho told him. Wooyoung smiled at him, clearly pleased by the praise and practically blinding Jongho in the process.

“You think so?” He asked, giving a slow spin to better show off his look. Jongho averted his eyes, not trusting himself to not stare. “San spent a lot of time making me look this way.”

“It wasn’t hard,” San interjected. “You’re already handsome, so it’s not like I needed to completely transform the way you look.”

Wooyoung waved his hand dismissively at the compliment, changing the subject entirely.

“This is San, by the way, my bestest friend,” he introduced. “He wanted to meet you since I’ve been spending so much time with you lately.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jongho said. “I’m—”

“Jongho,” San filled in. “I know, Wooyoung doesn’t ever stop talking and your name has come up a few times.”

Jongho didn’t say anything in response, unsure of how to take this newfound knowledge. He wondered what Wooyoung had been saying about him… A stray thought hoped it was only good things.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. I’ve gotta edit the photos I took,” San said after a few beats of silence, gesturing to the large camera bag slung across his shoulder. “See you later, yeah?”

“Of course,” Wooyoung scoffed as if the question was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. “Bye, Sannie!”

San waved, leaving the small study room and closing the door behind him. Mingi crawled out from under the table after hearing the door click shut. Wooyoung and Jongho watched him in silence the entire way out and back into his chair.

“What?” He had the nerve to ask upon noticing the pair watching him.

“Why though?” Jongho asked instead. “You don’t get to act like nothing just happened.”

Wooyoung nodded in agreement, taking the seat next to Jongho at the table and leaning forward to listen closely to Mingi’s explanation. Jongho caught a whiff of Wooyoung’s cologne as he moved closer, a very earthy, warm scent. He focused his attention as best he could away from Wooyoung.

Mingi sighed deeply, realizing he wasn’t getting out of this situation without some sort of explanation now, a blush beginning to creep up the back of his neck.

“You’ve both got to promise not to tell anyone,” Mingi murmured. Jongho and Wooyoung both nodded in agreement, whether or not they were both serious was another matter entirely, however. “Me and San… we’ve met before… a couple of times actually but that’s kind of the problem.”

“Why is that a problem?” Wooyoung asked, sounding as if he was ready to go on the defensive for his best friend at a moment’s notice upon hearing what Mingi had to say.

“Because we’re always drunk when we… _meet up,_ ” Mingi explained further, covering his eyes with his hand so he couldn’t see their reactions.

Oh.

Jongho didn’t know Mingi went out and got drunk enough to have one night stands so often. What an interesting new fact to learn about his friend of almost three years. It took Wooyoung a few seconds to realize what Mingi had meant by his words.

“Meet up…?” He pronounced slowly. And then realization hit him: “Wait! You and San have slept together?!”

Mingi turned even redder hearing it out loud. His cheeks now almost the same color as his dyed hair.

“You don’t have to shout it,” Mingi said instead of answering outright but that was an admittance of guilt in its own right. “We don’t go out planning to hook up with one another but every single time we’re at the same party it just… happens.”

“Why’d you hide under the table?” Jongho asked, still not quite understanding that part of the story. Mingi dropped his hand from his eyes and pushed his chair properly up against the table, resigning to his fate now.

“We’ve never talked to each other before sober. The first time it happened San was gone when I woke up. Which was fine,” Mingi immediately made sure Wooyoung knew he wasn’t attacking his friend. “I didn’t expect anything more from him, honestly. But then it happened again and when I woke and recognized him, I just left because I didn’t know what else to do. Five or six times later… here we are. You saw him. He’s just as bad. We see each other coming and immediately turn the other way.”

“You guys are such losers!” Wooyoung mocked, loud laughter filling the room. He leaned on Jongho’s shoulder, overcome by his giggles. “I can’t wait—to make fun of San over this! No wonder he never told me! I’m never going to let him live it down!”

“No no no, you can’t tell him I told you!” Mingi immediately protested, terror clear in his eyes.

“What? Have you caught feelings for him or something? You’re basically just hook-up buddies at this point. Unless…” Wooyoung asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as Mingi turned red once again at his word. “Unless you want to be more?”

“I don’t—I…” Mingi began stuttering. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“You’re hopeless,” Wooyoung scoffed with a roll of his eyes as he pulled himself up from Jongho’s shoulder. To think Mingi had been trying to give Jongho love advice not ten minutes ago. Oh, the irony.

“So I’m gonna…” Mingi cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go now. Good luck on the songwriting.”

Mingi hurriedly gathered his things as he spoke, rushing to the door before Wooyoung could glean any more insight into his and San’s relationship… or lack thereof.

“Yeah thanks,” Wooyoung agreed, watching Mingi leave with barely contained laughter.

“See you,” Jongho said, also finding that entire situation to be quite entertaining.

The second he was gone, Wooyoung burst into laughter and Jongho couldn’t help but join in, on a much quieter, more contained scale.

Wooyoung smiled at him when he composed himself, definitely having noticed Jongho’s laughter beside his own. Jongho wasn’t sure if it was the makeup or just simply the way Wooyoung had looked at him in that moment, but either way, that smile stole his breath away.

~*8*~

Jongho closed one of his notebooks with a sigh, putting away his notes for one class before pulling out another’s. He was sitting in another study room as he usually was by this time every few days or so. To wait for Wooyoung to show up for their bi-weekly meet-up, Jongho was working through a few assignments to catch up on his ever-growing list of things to do. It was like any other Wednesday evening, though the day itself was a bit more special than that depending on who you asked.

October 12th. His birthday. He’d never been a big celebrator; so really, today was no different than any other day. Well except for the fact that someone who was way too quiet to ever be Wooyoung was lurking at the door to the study room, almost out of Jongho’s line of sight… almost, but not quite.

“He’s not here, you know,” Jongho called out to the lurker. He knew who it was. Yunho would show up every once in awhile, but never because he wanted to hang out with Jongho. Nah, he was always, without fail, looking for Yeosang. By showing up occasionally, he was hoping he’d run into Yeosang by happenchance. It never worked out that way, but that hadn’t stopped Yunho from continuing to go where he knew Jongho would be on the off chance Yeosang would be with him. The guy was determined, Jongho had to give him that. Yunho had done everything in his power to pine after Yeosang in the most obvious of ways possible. Everyone could see it, including Yeosang but he was way too shy or nervous to ever do anything about it and Yunho, for whatever reason, was expecting him to make the first move. They were both such a disaster.

“Damn it,” Yunho sighed, walking into the room finally and beyond trying to hide what he had been doing. Jongho had caught Yunho so many times by this point, he’d come to expect the man’s presence every once in a while.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Jongho sighed, putting his pen down to turn and look at the newcomer.

“No, I can’t do that,” Yunho said but gave no other reason. Practically the same denial Yeosang always gave Jongho whenever he tried to broach the subject. He decided to just drop the subject. He didn’t want to have this circular argument a second time. They’d both just walk away annoyed.

“You should go to his gallery showcase coming up,” Jongho mentioned. Yunho nodded wordlessly. He probably already knew this information; it’s all Yeosang had been talking about lately. Some of his pieces had been selected for an on campus gallery opening. Yeosang had been working tirelessly for about a week now and Jongho couldn’t blame him. This was such a good opportunity to get his work out there, a great step in the right direction at least. “It’d mean a lot to him if you showed up.”

“I was planning on it,” Yunho agreed. He went silent then, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. Jongho could tell he clearly didn’t want to talk about this anymore. How he expected him and Yeosang to _ever_ get together at this rate, Jongho had no idea.

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked after another beat of silence, pointing to all the schoolwork Jongho had splayed out over the table. He was trying to change the subject and Jongho was willing to let him. He was sure both Yeosang and Yunho would figure out their strange relationship eventually. Or at least he sure hoped so, for all their sanities.

“Working on homework,” he answered. “I’ve got to meet Wooyoung to work on my song at seven.”

“Ah right, you and Wooyoung have been hanging out lately,” Yunho said, nodding in understanding. “He told me you helped him collect soda cans for me. Neither of you had to do that, so I appreciate it a lot.”

“Yeah well, when I found Wooyoung, he was stuck in a trashcan,” Jongho said with a short chuckle, remembering the confrontation from two weeks ago.

“He told me about that,” Yunho laughed. “But he also told me you kept him warm and helped make sure he didn’t fall in again.”

“The guy didn’t have a hat or gloves or anything out in the snow… What else was I supposed to do, let him freeze?”

“Some people would have. Woo—” Yunho stopped himself before he continued, looking a little troubled all of a sudden. “Well, let’s just say Woo hasn’t been in the best of company before, but he should be the one to tell you about that. Regardless, I really appreciate you helping him and I’m sure he appreciates it too.”

“I really didn’t do all that much,” Jongho returned. What Yunho had just told him was… troubling to say the very least. He remembered how often Wooyoung would check to make sure Jongho was still following him, still listening as he talked. Sure, Wooyoung was a little… much to deal with at times and he only had two volumes: loud and very loud, but Jongho couldn’t imagine someone being mean to the guy. He felt guilty for how he had acted during their first meeting, knowing this information now. He hoped he hadn’t come off as frustrated as he had felt that day. Wooyoung was always so… happy and bubbly and excited about everything. Everything Jongho just didn’t have the energy to be anymore. He could never imagine hurting someone like that… He really hated the thought actually.

“Will you just accept my thanks and move on?” Yunho laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah fine,” Jongho sighed, still feeling like he really hadn’t done anything deserving of thanks, but he also didn’t want to argue with Yunho anymore. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” Yunho agreed. “Alright well, you know why I really came by here and if Yeosang isn’t actually here, I’m going to get going. Let you get your work done.”

“It’s fine,” Jongho waved off, more grateful for the slight break form his work than anything else. Yunho nodded, backing up slightly towards the door.

“I’ll leave you to it. Good luck with your song,” Yunho said. Before he left for good however, he ducked his head back in: “Oh, and happy birthday, right?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jongho agreed with a small smile. Even if he wasn’t going to celebrate it, he still appreciated the people who remembered. His parents had, of course, sent him a present, and Yeosang had texted him earlier along with Seonghwa, but that had been it. It was mostly because Jongho just hadn’t told anyone about it. Jongho was sure Yunho had heard from Yeosang.

With Yunho gone, Jongho turned back to his work. He wanted to finish at least one more assignment before Wooyoung showed up and he still had some time. There were at least five minutes before they had scheduled to meet up and Wooyoung was almost always at least ten minutes late on top of that on most days. He’d have enough time if he really focused.

Just as he put his pen to paper to begin again, however:

“It’s your birthday today!?” Was being screeched at him at the top of Wooyoung’s lungs.

Jongho jumped in his seat at the sudden noise, pen flying from his hand in surprise as he whipped around to find Wooyoung standing in the doorframe, a mixture of shock and offense clearly on his face. His nose was still red from his walk through the cold and his lilac hair was stuffed into the black beanie that Jongho had given to him on loan a few days ago. “And you didn’t _tell me?!_ ”

“It’s not that big a deal…” Jongho trailed off. He knew his words would just be ignored. He knew that look on Wooyoung’s face. It was the same look he always gave him when Jongho had tried to challenge his “musical genius” while working on the song. He was about to get an earful no matter how he tried to defend himself now.

“Not a big deal? Oh no, no. You did _not_ just say the day you were born isn’t important!” Wooyoung shrieked. “For the love of God, Jongho. Were you even going to tell me?!”

“No probably not,” Jongho admitted. He felt kind of bad now, seeing the way Wooyoung was reacting to this information. He knew birthdays meant more to others than they did to him when it came to his own. But when it came to his friends’, he did like to celebrate them… Maybe he _was_ in the wrong this time…

“Oh no, you’re not getting off easy this time, buddy,” Wooyoung said, stomping up to Jongho angrily. “And you were just gonna have us work today as if nothing was different.”

“Are we… not working today?” He asked in confusion.

“Of course not! It’s your goddamn birthday! We’re gonna celebrate. Pack your things.”

“But—”

“No buts! You don’t get to argue this!” Wooyoung said, beginning to help the process along by gathering Jongho’s belongings scattered across the table. “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner, and then we can just chill. I know you finished whatever homework you have due tomorrow last week and one day of not working isn’t going to kill you.”

Wooyoung caught Jongho’s gaze, looking at him with hope in his large, sparkling eyes.

Well, he supposed he had a point. And food he didn’t have to pay for was always a plus.

“Alright,” Jongho sighed, taking the stack of his own things Wooyoung held out towards him. “But you have to tell me when your birthday is too, then.”

“November 26th,” Wooyoung said immediately, smiling triumphantly back at Jongho. He filed that away for later. He’d have to return the favor at the very least.

Jongho packed away his things and then let Wooyoung drag him away from the music department building and off-campus into the city. It was colder out tonight, probably why Wooyoung had made use of the hat Jongho had given him. But other than the cold and occasional icy wind, it was a beautiful night. A half-moon high above their heads in a clear black sky, Jongho didn’t mind entertaining Wooyoung’s whims he supposed. He hadn’t eaten dinner—a fact he was sure Wooyoung had been able to guess by the sheer amount of times he’d skipped eating before—so he could go for some food. Even if it was something cheap. He really did appreciate it whether or not he actually voiced those thoughts by the end of the night.

Wooyoung led him to a street market, gesturing to it grandly when they reached the entrance.

“When was the last time you had comfort food instead of just fast food?” Wooyoung had asked, looking rather proud of himself.

“When you had Seonghwa make me some extra food,” Jongho had answered.

“So like two weeks ago,” Wooyoung nodded. “Had you told me _earlier,_ I could’ve made you food myself but this will have to do. Come on, you can pick whatever you want.”

They walked around the place for a bit, trying to find whatever struck Jongho’s fancy. Truth be told, he didn’t much care what they ate. Food was food; he’d eat whatever was put in front of him as long as it tasted good. But he knew if he tried to voice these thoughts, Wooyoung wouldn’t have any of it. So Jongho didn’t even bother. Instead, he just watched. Wooyoung wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to everything; his food preferences would be no different, Jongho figured.

They stopped at a bubble tea stand when Jongho caught Wooyoung’s eyes lingering on the advertisement for a new chocolate strawberry flavor. If Wooyoung noticed Jongho wasn’t actually interested in the drink he ordered, he didn’t say anything.

Wooyoung sipped happily at his tea as they traversed the tight walkways together. Occasionally, he’d point something out but Jongho still wasn’t sure what he really wanted. So, they just kept going, taking in the bright colorful lights illuminating stand after stand of delicious looking and expertly made food, smells of all kinds mixing wonderfully in the air and making his stomach rumble. The air was cold but Jongho didn’t much mind it, being surrounded by such warm smells, sights, and sounds. Wooyoung gravitated closer towards him as they continued walking, practically hanging off his arm to leach off his warmth.

“You should dress more warmly if you’re always so cold,” Jongho teased when he noticed how close Wooyoung had begun to walk next to him.

“I try!” Wooyoung whined. “I just can’t help it. The cold and I just don’t mix.”

Jongho only sighed, taking off his scarf and handing it off without a word. Wooyoung took it without saying anything either. He decided to change the subject to get rid of the heavy silence that started to settle around them.

“So… you can cook?” He asked, remembering what Wooyoung had said when they’d first arrived. Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically as he sipped at his red drink, a few dark bubbles getting sucked up along with.

“I know I don’t seem like someone who would be good at that kind of thing, but I used to cook all the time with my mom,” Wooyoung explained, chewing on the gummy tapioca.

“Are you good at it?” Jongho asked. Wooyoung scoffed, taking their closeness even further and linking their arms. Jongho had seen Wooyoung walking like this with Yeosang too. The guy was just so much more touchy-feely than Jongho would ever be, but he didn’t stop him.

“Am I good at it,” Wooyoung joked, fixing the scarf around his neck to better cover his rosy face. “I’m _amazing._ You’ll see someday.”

That felt like a promise. Jongho liked the sound of that.

“If you insist,” Jongho said with a faked eye-roll and a small smile playing across his lips. Wooyoung beamed back at him.

“I do!” He agreed brightly. “You’ll just have—Oh oh oh! Look at that!”

Wooyoung cut himself off, pointing excitably at a brightly lit, and busy stall. Guess Jongho had found where “he” wanted to eat.

“Come on, let’s go then,” Jongho agreed, letting Wooyoung practically drag him along, their arms still interlaced. They both ordered their food; true to his word, Wooyoung paid for everything before Jongho even had the chance to try and split the bill.

They picked a table within the stall, Wooyoung deciding to sit next to Jongho instead of across to continue stealing his warmth. Jongho let him, not even thinking twice as Wooyoung slid in close. It made room for more people to use the table anyway too.

They chatted throughout dinner about whatever thought randomly crossed Wooyoung’s mind. Jongho listened more than he contributed but as always, he was more than happy to do so. It was a relief really, to not be expected to carry the conversation.

During a moment of silence within their conversation, Jongho decided he needed to say something:

“I really appreciate this,” he said quietly, staring at his empty tray in front of him. “So, thank you… for everything.”

“Of course,” Wooyoung brushed off like he didn’t even have to say anything at all. Jongho laughed, taking the leap to meet Wooyoung’s eyes. The smile he received in return was well worth the initial anxiety. This was a nice way to spend his birthday, he decided.

He couldn’t shake the feeling, however, as Wooyoung erupted into loud laughter over something he had said, leaning his whole body against Jongho’s side for support, that this encounter felt dangerously close to a date. Scarier even, Jongho allowed himself to entertain the idea. If only for a fleeting moment, before embarrassment got the better of him.

~*9*~

The sound of frantic chatter coming from down the hallway cued Jongho into the fact that something wasn’t quite right. He knew this already, but the loud, panicked discussion coming from the room Jongho was heading to only confirmed his suspicions.

He and Yeosang were supposed to have met up for lunch about fifteen minutes ago. It was something they did to stay in touch, regardless of how hard it sometimes was. Both of them had a break that lined up perfectly at one o’clock every Tuesday. Jongho got out of his morning lectures at 12:50 and Yeosang’s self-started fine art’s study club ended at one o’clock sharp. Yeosang was always a couple of minutes late but every time he’d send Jongho a text message with an ETA or call if he had to push the time back. Today, Jongho had gotten nothing of the sort and that worried him more than he was willing to admit.

After sitting in the school’s food court for fifteen minutes with no communication from the older man, Jongho had decided to head to the building where Yeosang’s club had managed to rent a studio for their meetings. He just wanted to make sure the man was okay. He logically knew that Yeosang was probably just really busy with whatever they had been doing today but he still wanted to check. Maybe he could help even. He wasn’t good at drawing though… he really hoped it wasn’t that kind of issue.

He approached the room, the panicked discussion coming more into clarity. He opened the door quietly, seeing all the members of the club crowded around each other as they debated the topic at hand.

“Well what are we supposed to do? I have an exam on this next week, I could really use the practice,” one member that Jongho didn’t know the name of said, looking as if she were working on only a few hours of sleep.

“We could just reschedule that anatomy practice for Thursday instead? There might be another model available then,” Yunho suggested to the group, standing close to Yeosang. Though Yunho was much more interested in sculpting and couldn’t draw to save his life, this was just one other way Yunho had tried his very hardest to get closer to Yeosang. 

“Ah but I was looking forward to the color theory practice Yeosang-oppa had ready for Thursday,” another member weighed in.

“I don’t know what else we could do,” Yeosang admitted. “We’re already over our time and without a model we really don’t have anything to practice with.”

Jongho felt a little weird just standing on the outskirts listening in. He decided to make his presence known. Maybe he could offer some insight once he was aware of the situation. Stepping into the classroom a little further, he cleared his throat, trying not to interrupt whoever was talking at the moment.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked as the discussion ceased and everyone turned to look at him now instead.

No one said anything for a moment, but Jongho could practically see the gears begin turning behind Yeosang’s clever eyes. He didn’t like that look one bit. He shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited for someone to say anything. Yeosang looked to Yunho, who shrugged in response to whatever silent question had been passed between the two of them. He _really_ didn’t like that look one bit either.

“Jongho, I know we had lunch plans and I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. We just got so busy and now… we could really use your help…” Yeosang said finally.

“What can I do?” Jongho asked. Even if he was apprehensive about what he would have to do, he wanted to help. He had a lot more free time today than Yeosang did anyway.

“Well today was supposed to be an anatomy practice session,” Yeosang started. “But the model that we recruited just didn’t show up today, so we were left scrambling.”

“Could none of you do it?” Jongho asked. Yeosang scoffed at that.

“Everyone here needs the practice and _the one person who doesn’t,_ was too chicken to take even his shirt off,” he said, pointing his statement and glare past Jongho to where a cluster of desks had been pushed out of the way. Following his gaze, Jongho was a little surprised to see Wooyoung precariously perched on top of the desks, thoroughly invested in whatever he was doing on his cellphone, bright lilac hair shining prettily in the light from the windows next to him. As if sensing that someone was looking at him, Wooyoung looked up from his phone, his brown eyes meeting Jongho’s first before noticing Yeosang’s displeased expression.

“I’m sorry I don’t want to strip for a bunch of strangers!” Wooyoung shouted immediately, knowing what the conversation was about and taking a defensive tone. “You don’t want to draw me anyway! I’m all squishy!”

“Oh for the—that doesn’t matter! We’re practicing drawing the human body not sculpting a Greek god,” Yeosang shot back exasperated. They’d clearly already had this argument before Jongho had shown up. “You’re not even here to draw! How—You know what, never mind. You’re a lost cause. We don’t have time for this.”

Yeosang turned his attention back to Jongho.

“The point is, we need your help. We’ll pay you what we were going to pay the model,” he explained.

“You need a nude model?” Jongho asked, already feeling embarrassment creep up on him at just the thought of what that would entail.

“Well yeah but you can just strip as much as you’re comfortable with. Anything at all would be greatly appreciated. We don’t have any time left so people would just take some quick pictures and be on their way.”

Jongho didn’t say anything for a moment. He should’ve just stayed at the food court. Even with the promise of pay, he wasn’t sure that was worth strangers taking at least semi-nude photos of him…

“I’ll buy you lunch for a month whenever I’m free on top of the pay?” Yeosang added, eyes pleading, his voice desperate. The rest of the group looked at him with the same look of hope. He _did_ like the idea of having guaranteed food for at least a few days this month. And he could always use some spare cash…

“Alright,” Jongho agreed slowly. “But everyone has to delete the photos when they’re done with them…”

Jongho thought about another thing, adding to his demands before anyone could say anything else:

“And I don’t want to do my calc homework today.”

“Deal,” Yeosang agreed with a relieved smile. Yeosang was good at math anyway, so he didn’t feel bad dumping his single assignment on him. Everyone in the room immediately scrambled for something to take pictures with upon hearing Jongho’s agreement. Jongho himself wasn’t really sure what he should be doing. Did he just… start stripping? He really didn’t want to take off more than his shirt; he hoped that wouldn’t be a problem.

“Do I just…?” Jongho asked whoever was listening.

“Yeah, whatever you’re comfortable with,” Yeosang agreed, pulling up the camera app on his phone as he spoke.

“Okay,” Jongho agreed, letting his backpack slide off his shoulder to the floor. His jacket came next, but he hesitated before pulling off his shirt. He wasn’t at all self-conscious about his body. Though he may have been a little soft-spoken with strangers and not very emotive in general, his physique was one thing he was relatively confident in. He’d spent the entire summer trying to retrain his ankle to work the way it had before and even now he worked out on occasion—old habits died hard after all. There was nothing to worry about. These were a bunch of art students; they had worked with nude models before and he wasn’t even stripping all the way down.

He ripped it off like a band-aid, pulling his shirt off before he could chicken out, the cool air causing gooseflesh when it hit his bare chest.

No one even looked twice at him or said anything at all. Well, everyone except…

“Wow,” Wooyoung exclaimed from his spot in the back of the room away from everyone else, giving an appreciative whistle also. “And you just walk around with all that covered up all the time?”

Jongho couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, resisting the urge to cover himself once more. He only hoped he wasn’t visibly blushing because his face certainly felt hot. He couldn’t bring himself to look in Wooyoung’s direction, but he could definitely feel the man’s gaze burning into him.

“Can you like twirl around for me? Gotta see every angle I’m working with,” Wooyoung continued.

“Quit harassing the model,” Yeosang scolded, rolling his eyes.

“Just my shirt,” Jongho decided, afraid of what else Wooyoung might say if he took any more clothes off. It wasn’t like he hated the attention, especially from someone as effortlessly handsome as Wooyoung, he just… was a little embarrassed. He didn’t know what to do with that kind of attention.

“That’s alright,” Yeosang agreed at the same time Wooyoung tsked in disappointment. Yeosang carefully maneuvered him into a spot where the lighting was the best and then each member of the club took their turn with him. Each asked him to do a few different poses given that they had less nude body to work with. All of them were sensible, just basic casual movements. A few asked him to stretch or to turn around. There were only so many positions he could do after all. He wasn’t particularly sculpted, his muscles not well-defined but it would have to be enough if the club wanted to keep on schedule. Everyone was very thankful though so at least he could be of some help, however small.

“Could you lay down? Propped on your side?” Wooyoung asked all of a sudden, pushing through to the front of the group with his phone brandished at the ready. “And then say: ‘draw me like one of your French girls, Wooyoung’?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that really what you want?” Jongho asked, deciding to answer Wooyoung’s challenge with one of his own. He fought back a smile as Wooyoung briefly looked surprised before recovering quickly.

“Hmm, you’re right. That’s kind of tacky… Spin around for me, _darling,_ give me something to work with!” He mocked with a smile and a posh accent. Jongho chuckled.

“What are you even doing here?” Jongho asked, listening to someone else’s request for a pose instead. “Don’t think I don’t see you taking pictures.”

“Guilty as charged,” Wooyoung laughed completely unashamed, clearly taking a picture as he said it. “As for why I’m here, Yeosang and Yunho needed a certain number of members to get their club recognized by the school so I signed up to offer my services last year and just kinda stuck around.”

“You sure you’re not here just to peep at the occasional nude model?” Jongho teased.

“Take your pants off and I’ll make a decision.”

“Nice try.”

“Damn it, so close.”

“You wish.”

Jongho turned back to his task at hand, smile slowly falling from his face, lingering longer than normal. His eyes met Yeosang’s as he turned by the request of another student. He was looking at him funny.

“What?” Jongho asked before he could think better of it. Yeosang blinked a few times as if snapping out of his thoughts.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, immediately busying himself with his phone once more. Jongho really didn’t believe him but he didn’t press the matter.

They finished up quickly, all the members rushing to make it to whatever obligation they were already horribly late to. Jongho put his clothes back on, much to Wooyoung’s dismay, before the three of them went to grab something to eat, Yeosang having invited Wooyoung along with them for the first time ever. And Jongho really couldn’t say that he minded much at all.

~*10*~

Jongho was starting to get worried. This, of course, wasn’t a new or groundbreaking phenomenon, he often worried about his friends when they were late to meetings without any sort of explanation. What was new, however, was finding himself worrying over the fact that _Wooyoung_ was late to one of their scheduled workdays. Normally the man was late; that wasn’t the issue here. Wooyoung was _always_ helping someone out, no matter what time of the day it was, and because of that, the man almost always lost track of time. Jongho had gotten used to it by now; it didn’t bother him as much as it had at their very first meeting.

But today… was a little different.

Usually, Wooyoung was never more than fifteen minutes late at the most. However, today, Jongho had let the time get away from him. He’d been trying to hash out more song lyrics, listening to love songs for inspiration, and getting lost in the process. By the time he even thought to check his phone, he was shocked to find that Wooyoung was approaching forty-five minutes late without any sort of heads-up message. Jongho couldn’t help but feel a little worried even though he knew the man had probably just gotten hopelessly distracted by something on the way over here.

But that did little to ease his anxiety. He had shot him a quick text. Just a “Hey, we still on for today?” But after another five minutes passed with no response, Jongho was convinced something really was wrong. The man was _always_ on his phone.

Jongho stood up from his chair, deciding to see if he could find anyone around who might know where Wooyoung was. He remembered seeing Hongjoong’s name in his oh-so neat handwriting on a sign-up sheet outside one of the study rooms. He decided to check with him first. It was a shot in the dark, but it was all he could think of trying at this point. He hated to bother the man if he was actually really busy but he was running out of options here. 

He left his study room, careful to prop the door open so he didn’t accidentally lock himself out of it. Walking down the short hallway, he found the room that had Hongjoong’s name attached to it. To his surprise, the door was wide open, and even more shocking was the mental and emotional state of its occupants.

Hongjoong sat at the table, his elbows braced against the surface and his hands clutching either side of his head. He just sat there, completely unmoving as he stared at the laptop screen in front of him, clearly distressed by what he was seeing. Mingi was also in the room, on the other side of it, as far away from Hongjoong as he could possibly be. He was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled up to his chest and a look of absolute horror on his face, tears falling from his eyes. That’s where he also, strangely enough, found the man he had been looking for in the first place. Wooyoung knelt on the floor next to Mingi, trying his very best to try and comfort the man on the verge of hysteria. It didn’t seem to be working unfortunately for him.

Jongho was hesitant to enter the room, unsure of what was actually happening before him. He didn’t want to intrude but he also didn’t want to leave his friends in such a clear state of distress.

He took a hesitant step into the room, tapping the door lightly to draw attention to his entrance. Wooyoung’s head snapped up at the sound; Hongjoong and Mingi didn’t move an inch.

“Jongho, thank god,” Wooyoung sighed upon meeting his eyes across the room. He stood up from his spot on the ground, rushing over to meet him at the door.

“You were forty-five minutes late to our meeting and didn’t answer my text. I got a little worried, so I came looking for you,” Jongho explained. “What’s happening?”

Wooyoung sighed again, looking more than a little frazzled. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, Jongho noticed. His hair had been styled up out of his eyes too. He looked nice if not a little overwhelmed by whatever had transpired in this room over the last hour.

“Well, I _was_ gonna be on time today. Go figure, right?” Wooyoung tsked. “But as I passed this room, I heard anguished screaming, which is quite the feat considering these are soundproof…

“But I saw Hongjoong’s name on the sign-up sheet and I couldn’t just _not_ check on what was going on,” Wooyoung continued. “From what I managed to get out of Hongjoong before he assumed that position, he and Mingi were working on a song for an assignment when Mingi hit a wrong key or something and deleted _everything_ they had.”

“Oh shit,” Jongho mumbled.

“I’ve just been trying to keep them both from breaking down completely,” Wooyoung said, looking over the room and the occupants on the verge of a breakdown. “I don’t think I’ve helped much.”

Wooyoung approached Hongjoong at the table slowly, like one would a scared animal who might bolt at any sudden movement.

“Hyung…” Wooyoung started quietly, touching the man’s back comfortingly. Hongjoong jumped at the contact, head snapping to look up at Wooyoung. “Is there any way to get the file back?”

Hongjoong shook his head, eyes glassy, and expression hopeless. Jongho had never seen the man so defeated before.

“I tried _everything,_ ” Hongjoong’s voice broke over the words. “I don’t know what he did. This has never happened before. Even the file I had saved is gone. It’s like everything just got completely wiped.”

“I’m so sorry, hyung!” Mingi cried, throwing his head against his knees, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed freely. Hongjoong said nothing in response to Mingi’s apology; though, Jongho couldn’t quite blame him for being angry with the man right now. This situation was… quite a mess. Jongho decided comforting Mingi would be his job if Wooyoung had Hongjoong. He walked over quickly, sitting down next to Mingi and rubbing at his back.

“It’s okay, hyung, you didn’t mean to delete it,” he said calmly. In a fraction of a second, Mingi latched onto Jongho in a very tight—and a very awkwardly angled—hug, continuing to sob into his shoulder. Jongho, as much as he didn’t want to, let him do it. He met Wooyoung’s eyes across the room; the man giving him a sympathetic look before turning back to Hongjoong.

“It’s not even in your recycling bin?” He asked. Hongjoong shook his head.

“I checked _everywhere,_ Wooyoung. I don’t know how we’re ever going to finish this on time now. A week’s worth of work just gone!” The other snapped.

“Okay, no need to get short with me,” Wooyoung shot back. “I’m just trying to understand the situation.”

Hongjoong paused for a minute before sighing deeply, rubbing at his forehead.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I’m sorry. I really appreciate your help, Woo.”

“The least you can do is tell Mingi you aren’t mad at him,” Wooyoung said next, gesturing to the poor guy still sobbing into Jongho’s shoulder. “I mean, look at him.”

Hongjoong sighed again.

“Mingi?” He called. The man didn’t move. “I’m sorry, too. It’s not your fault and I’m not mad at you, just the situation.”

Mingi sniffled, taking a shaky breath in as he did his best to calm down. He lifted his head from Jongho.

“It’s okay,” he said, still not letting go just yet.

“Now that’s a step in the right direction,” Wooyoung nodded. “Now, did you check the auto-recovery files?”

Hongjoong blinked up at Wooyoung slowly, letting the question fully sink in.

“The what?” He asked finally, looking beyond confused.

“The program saves copies of your work every like thirty minutes I think is the default,” Wooyoung explained. “I sometimes forget to save when I’m using this program so that feature has really saved my ass over the last few weeks.”

“Are you saying you’ve almost lost our song _multiple times?_ ” Jongho asked. Wooyoung waved him off wordlessly, a “not important, move on” clear in the gesture.

“I didn’t know about that…” Hongjoong trailed off in wonder.

“Let’s check there then, yeah?” Wooyoung suggested, sliding Hongjoong’s laptop over a bit so he could access it better. Jongho couldn’t see what he was doing so instead he watched the man’s focused eyes as they flitted across the screen. Jongho noticed a beauty mark under his eye, something that was usually covered by his glasses.

“Aha!” Wooyoung exclaimed triumphantly, opening the auto-saved file that was thought to have been lost forever only moment before. All the tension melted from Hongjoong’s body as he looked at the screen.

“Oh my fucking god,” he sighed in utter relief. “Woo, you’re a fucking saint.”

Upon hearing Hongjoong, Mingi scrambled off the floor, finally releasing Jongho and racing to look at the computer. He grabbed Wooyoung tightly next, breaking into tears of relief after seeing their saved file with his own eyes.

“There, there, big guy,” Wooyoung comforted, sounding like the air was being squeezed from his lungs. “Any time.”

Jongho stood up to join the rest around the laptop, sliding up next to Wooyoung as Mingi let go of him.

“That’s one problem solved,” Hongjoong said, his voice notably more stable. “We lost a bit of work. I remember what we did though so that’s not a big deal but we also lost two hours… I’ve got so much work to do today, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

“What else do you have?” Wooyoung asked. Jongho knew where this would be going. Wooyoung was sometimes too selfless for his own good.

“I have so much grading I need to catch up on… My professor is getting upset by the number of emails he’s been getting about where his students’ grades are…” Hongjoong looked at a large stack of neatly organized and sectioned off papers. “I don’t know how we’re going to get any of this done on time.”

He began to look more and more distressed as he continued talking. Wooyoung, however, just looked more and more determined. Jongho made a decision before Wooyoung even offered anything.

“Okay, tell you what. I’ll do the grading, you and Mingi just finish the this, yeah?” Wooyoung suggested.

“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Hongjoong immediately countered.

“It’ll be easy, there’s an answer key, right? I’ve got time, you guys just focus on making another killer song.” Wooyoung was already picking up the large stack of papers as he spoke.

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you, Woo,” Hongjoong looked up at him with affection in his eyes before he turned back to his compute, fingers already beginning to fly across the keys. The engagement ring on his finger sparkled in the light from the screen. “I’m going to find a way to make it up to you for this.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Wooyoung brushed off, beginning to walk towards the door. He jerked his head at Jongho, silently suggesting that they should be on their way. Jongho followed along, holding open the door for Wooyoung before leaving and closing the door behind him. He quick-stepped it a bit to catch up with Wooyoung once the door was shut, reaching out to take half of the heavy stack of papers without a word or explanation.

“What are you doing?” Wooyoung asked, looking actually confused. Again, Jongho found himself wondering how often someone offered to help Wooyoung for a change.

“It’ll go faster if we both do it,” he shrugged. He didn’t want Wooyoung to make a big deal of this.

“I’m the one who offered to help. I don’t want to drag you into it, too,” Wooyoung argued back.

“Yeah well, you’re just going to have to let me help you,” Jongho said finitely. Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, looking at Jongho as if he were a creature he’d never seen before. Jongho didn’t know how to read what that look meant on Wooyoung’s face. It seemed Jongho had just gotten the answer to his question, however. How often did someone offer to help Wooyoung? _Not often enough._ Jongho vowed to change that as often as he could manage.

“What?” Jongho asked after a beat of silence.

“Thank you,” Wooyoung mumbled, averting his eyes and beginning to walk once more down the hallway; though his pace was much faster now.

“Of course, hyung.”

Jongho might have been imagining things, but he was sure he saw a light shade of red begin to overtake Wooyoung’s handsome face as he picked up his pace even further to stay in front of Jongho.


	3. Chapter 3

~*11*~

Jongho looked at his reflection in the mirror, pushing thoughts that he should’ve done more for his appearance out of his head. He looked nice enough, he decided, turning on the faucet in front of him and beginning to wash his hands. It wasn’t like he was on a date or anything. He was just supporting Yeosang’s hard work. Sure, Wooyoung had asked specifically if he would go with him to the art gallery opening, but Jongho would’ve gone even if he hadn’t asked anyway.

After Wooyoung had gotten over whatever shock Jongho had sent him into a few days ago, out of nowhere as they worked through Hongjoong’s grading responsibilities, he’d broken the silence, blurting out:

“Are you going to Yeosang’s gallery opening on Friday?”

Of course, Jongho would be going to support his friend. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Yeah,” Jongho answered. “Are you?”

“I was wondering…” Wooyoung started slowly, he still hadn’t looked up at Jongho since starting to speak. Jongho wondered what was going on inside his head. He had never seen the man act this way before. “Would you be interested in going together? I don’t really know anyone else besides Yunho going, and I don’t really wanna be a third wheel to that nightmare.”

Jongho had thought about the question for a second. Not because he was debating whether or not to accept the invitation, however, but rather confused over what such a request actually meant. He didn’t want to ask the question ringing in his head. _Do you mean… like a date?_ He could never be so bold. Perhaps he did understand Yunho’s struggle with telling Yeosang how he felt. Not that Jongho had feelings for Wooyoung. They were friends, he had decided at that moment. Nothing more.

He didn’t ask for clarification. He was sure Wooyoung only meant “going together” as friends to support their shared friend. If it was anything more, he was sure Wooyoung would have told him. The man was terribly blunt when it came to most things; Jongho was sure he meant nothing more than what he said when he asked the question despite the strange way he’d been acting after Jongho had forced his way into helping him.

“Yeah, okay,” Jongho agreed just as Wooyoung was beginning to get antsy. “We can just meet there, yeah?”

“Seven o’clock?”

“Will you be on time?” Jongho teased. Finally, Wooyoung smiled at him again.

“I’ll try my very best just for you.”

So now, Jongho found himself worrying over his appearance on the very night of Yeosang’s gallery showcase despite himself in the bathroom outside the exhibit. He had dusted off an old suit he hadn’t worn since his graduation, thankful that he hadn’t grown much in the past two years and had managed to keep his weight consistent. It fit him well and was classy enough for a college gallery opening. He hadn’t been sure how fancy he should dress but after seeing the rest of the attendees he wished he had tried perhaps just a bit harder. Maybe if he looked less tired… He could’ve called Seonghwa and asked how to get rid of dark circles on short notice and how to make his hair look nice. He’d just parted it differently today, letting a triangle of his forehead show through his hair for once. But besides his clothes, and the bare minimum attempt at styling his hair, that was it.

Jongho sighed at his reflection again, turning off the faucet and moving to dry off his hands, deciding he’d been in here long enough. There was no reason for him to worry anyway. He was being dumb. A quick check of the time told him it was exactly seven o’clock now. If he was late after teasing Wooyoung about it earlier, he’d never hear the end of it. It was now or never.

He left the bathroom, slipping his hands into his pocket and stepping back into the foyer of the museum. He followed the small crowd towards the exhibit, stepping through the open doors into a blindingly white series of walls and sectioned off rooms. The ceiling was high above, giving the entire area a feeling of connectivity, most of the walls not reaching the entire way up. There were people mingling everywhere, discussing the various colorful paintings hanging every few feet or marveling at the profound statements others were making with their imagery.

Looking around the large open space, Jongho had no idea how he was ever going to find Wooyoung with all these well-dressed people blurring together. He decided to go in search of where Yeosang’s paintings were supposed to be displayed. He figured he’d at least let Yeosang know he was here. He knew how nervous his closest friend probably was right now; it was the least he could do to show his support.

He maneuvered through the groups of chattering people, making his way to the back corner Yeosang had said would be his for the night. When he saw a tall canvas full of bright paint splatters, he knew he was in the right place. Yeosang had always preferred painting with bright, happy colors; Jongho could always pick out his paintings because of it.

“Hey, hyung,” Jongho greeted when he found Yeosang standing beneath one of his pieces with Yunho, beaming at everyone who looked at his painting, even if they only gave it a passing glance. Yeosang’s eyes lit up when he noticed Jongho approach.

“Jongho! You left your apartment!” Yeosang cheered happily, running up to him excitedly. Yunho followed along, hanging back just a bit and reminding Jongho of a lost puppy. The poor guy.

Jongho rolled his eyes at the clear call-out but he knew it was just a joke. Yeosang just had a strange way of showing his appreciation.

“Yeah, hyung, I’m almost never at home these days,” Jongho chastised. Yeosang only brushed him off, looking unimpressed.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice turning more serious.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, hyung,” Jongho returned. It was the truth after all. Yeosang put up with so much of his crap all the time; it was passed due time he returned the favor.

Yeosang smiled happily up at him hearing his words. He turned to Yunho then, waving for the tallest of them to come closer.

“Yunho came too,” Yeosang said happily as Yunho stepped over. When they’re eyes met, Yunho gave Jongho a covert thumbs up and an almost-wink. Jongho wasn’t exactly sure what that was supposed to convey, but Jongho wished him the best of luck with whatever the man was planning. Yeosang continued talking, oblivious to the wordless exchange Yunho and Jongho had just had. “And I know Wooyoung is around here somewhere.”

So Wooyoung _was_ on time. Jongho chuckled to himself. Now if only he could get the guy to show up on time all the time, then he’d _really_ be impressed.

“Do you know where he went? I was supposed to meet him here actually,” Jongho brought up casually. He didn’t want Yeosang to read too much into the situation. It was only supposed to be a passing question, but despite what Jongho had intended, he could feel Yeosang reading way too much into it. About a month ago, Jongho had been complaining that Wooyoung was too much for him to handle; now, Jongho spent almost all his free time with the man. Yeosang had been right and he didn’t even have to open his mouth for Jongho to hear the “I told you so” attacking him in the expression Yeosang wore now.

“He said, and I quote: ‘I’m going to troll some sophisticated groups with dumb interpretations of artworks.’ So he could be literally anywhere by now, I guess,” Yeosang explained, still looking at Jongho like he knew something he didn’t. He hated this. He should’ve just gone searching for Wooyoung and played it off like the younger man had followed him around for the rest of the night if Yeosang ever asked. He was just digging his grave deeper and deeper by this point.

“I guess I’ll start looking for him,” Jongho said with a sigh, looking around the immediate area. He didn’t see any purple hair amongst the sea of natural colors. At least the man would be easy to spot once he actually did start looking around seriously.

“Let me know what you think of the pieces I chose too!” Yeosang chirped happily. Jongho nodded in agreement, leaving Yunho and Yeosang to go look for his plus one. He decided to take a quick look around Yeosang’s exhibit first; he didn’t have many other waypoints that Wooyoung could possibly be at so this was his only best option to start. He circled around to the other side of the wall he had started at, hoping to catch even a glimpse of the man he was looking for. Instead, he heard Wooyoung before he saw, but that shouldn’t have surprised him.

“Do you see that?! My friend painted that! I know him!” He heard Wooyoung shout. He could practically see the absolutely proud look Wooyoung would have on his face as he heard him gush over Yeosang’s art. Jongho weaved around a group of people, following the loud boastings Wooyoung was yelling at some poor group of passersby. He found the man standing in front of a tall canvas hanging proudly on the wall as he gestured grandly at the piece. It was another brightly colored piece of artwork, though Jongho wasn’t surprised by that. There was paint splattered all over the stark white canvas except for around the silhouette of what looked to be a man. The colors were striking, making the unmarked silhouette stand out against the chaos of the paint. It was quite the eye-catching piece; Jongho could see why Yeosang had picked it. “And that outline? That’s me! See?”

Wooyoung mimicked the position of the silhouette as if that would somehow help the onlookers better believe his claims. Jongho was suddenly struck with realization, however, even if the patrons around Wooyoung were more confused than anything else. Wooyoung’s demonstration helped him to understand something that had been a mystery up until this point. It all made sense now, why Wooyoung had been completely covered in paint splatter on their first-ever meeting.

The people Wooyoung was yelling excitedly at left before he could continue, moving on to the next painting quickly and probably hoping the strange man wouldn’t follow them. Even if Wooyoung had been planning to, he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes met Jongho’s as he approached.

“Now look who’s late,” the man laughed teasingly as he checked the watch around his wrist. He was dressed similarly to Jongho, in a dark black suit that fit him well with shiny black shoes, a white undershirt, and a crisp black tie. Even since Wooyoung had shown up completely decked out thanks to his friend San, a very clear change had been made to his usual attire. His purple hair was styled and his glasses weren’t on his face as was beginning to be the new norm. He’d begun wearing more fashionable clothes on the daily as well. Gone were the baggy, unflattering clothes, replaced with form-fitted and in-style trends. Jongho wasn’t sure what had triggered the change, but Wooyoung had just begun to look less like a tired college student every day and more like a model right out of a magazine. Jongho couldn’t say he much minded the change… Wooyoung had always been nice to look at after all. Only now that fact was on display more than ever.

“Like three minutes late,” Jongho shot back with a small smile. “And that’s only because _you_ didn’t tell me where to meet you.”

“Right, everything is _my_ fault,” Wooyoung continued teasing, bumping into Jongho’s shoulder as he moved to stand next to him instead of in front. They both marveled up at the painting before them, it’s size and technique something to be admired. Jongho really did like the way it looked, so colorful and vibrant. Upon closed inspection, it was clear the silhouette was actually Wooyoung; though, Jongho was unsure why he felt so certain of this fact. 

“So that’s you?” Jongho asked as they both observed the art.

“Yep,” Wooyoung said proudly. “Yeosang’s used me as a model for a couple of paintings actually but this one was fun to help with. He just had me stand in front of the canvas and threw paint at me.”

“And that’s why you were covered in paint the day we met?”

“Oh… Yeah,” Wooyoung laughed, remembering the day with a shy smile on his face. “I am sorry about that. It had been kind of a rough day… rough week more like it. And you know me, I’m a little… absentminded when it comes to time, but it was really bad that week.”

“Hmm,” Jongho nodded in understanding, deciding not to pry any further into the situation. If Wooyoung wanted to share, he wasn’t going to stop him, but he also wasn’t going to pressure him into doing so either. Wooyoung had always given him the space to tell him things when he was ready, Jongho wanted to do the same. After talking to Yunho on his birthday, he had an idea about what could have happened anyway.

“I don’t want to bring down the mood or anything,” Wooyoung laughed, sounding nervous. Maybe he was expecting Jongho to ask.

“It’s okay,” Jongho said, brushing off whatever was making Wooyoung so antsy. If he didn’t want to share. It was as simple as that. Jongho would pry no further. They stood in silence for another moment, observing the bright and beautiful painting before them.

Wooyoung sighed then, tension melting out of his body as he side-stepped closer to Jongho and interlaced their arms in one movement. He looked over at the man on his arm as Wooyoung looked back at him.

“Want to go look around?” He asked.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Jongho teased. Wooyoung hit his arm lightly with his other hand, clearly not appreciating that joke.

“Yeosang would kill us if we only looked at one painting all night,” Wooyoung added on. Jongho laughed, nodding his head in agreement. He could see the exact look Yeosang would give them, too.

“Yeah, let’s go then,” Jongho decided but he let Wooyoung pull him where he wanted to go. He didn’t feel too strongly about where they started so if Wooyoung wanted to go somewhere first, he’d happily follow along.

They meandered slowly through the gallery, pointing out pieces that caught their eyes. Wooyoung had led the two of them away from Yeosang’s exhibit to start, telling Jongho that:

“I want to save the best for last, you know? No one is gonna compare to Yeosang anyway.”

He had agreed, seeing as he had no strong opinions either way anyway. There were a lot of talented artists being showcased. Each painting they passed was eye-catching and technically beautiful even if they weren’t anything extraordinary. He felt a surge of pride walking around the gallery, seeing Yeosang’s work on the same level as all the masterpieces displayed. Yeosang was always so secretive when it came to his projects. Never before had he seen the full extent of the man’s abilities on such a grand display. He wanted to tell everyone he saw how proud he was of his friend and the sentiment was very clearly shared by Wooyoung as well. Every chance Wooyoung got he mentioned to the people he passed by that his friend’s work was over there and that they should go check it out. Jongho would nod enthusiastically every time, agreeing whole-heartedly with everything Wooyoung said about their shared friend’s work. He felt like two proud parents walking around, arm in arm, sending people in Yeosang’s direction.

As they continued walking, they got a bit more creative with how they sent people over to Yeosang’s exhibit. Wooyoung had started it, shrugging afterward that it was more fun this way, to see how others would react.

“If you like this, go check out our friend’s work. It’s back over there, they have similar styles,” Jongho said to someone he had struck up a conversation with about a painting.

“That’s a threat,” Wooyoung deadpanned as soon as Jongho had finished, leaning closer to the other person in an attempt to be more intimidating. Jongho was at a loss at first, unsure of what Wooyoung was trying to accomplish. But when he saw the pull of a smile threatening to overtake Wooyoung’s face, Jongho decided he would play along. Just to see what would happen. He kept a straight face as the stranger looked between him and Wooyoung, confusion sinking in deep.

After another beat of tense silence, Wooyoung broke into light-hearted laughter.

“I’m only kidding. You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said through his—Jongho noticed—faked laughter. His smile quickly dropped from his face into a look of complete seriousness when the other person joined in on his laughter, clearly very uncomfortable by what was beginning to transpire. “But seriously, I’ve seen him shirtless, he can snap you like a twig. Go check it out.”

They messed with a few other people like that as well, getting more and more creative each time for the entertainment. Wooyoung was a mastermind when it came to coming up with unique ways to confuse other people. He shouldn’t have been surprised, though, considering how often he had been confused by Wooyoung’s antics when they had first met without the other man even trying back then. For every few people they sent to Yeosang’s work genuinely, they would mess with one other. To spice things up a bit, as Wooyoung had put it. There was even a point where the two of them had decided to follow around a group of people that Wooyoung had deemed “snobby art critics.” Though Jongho knew nothing about art enough to ever meaningfully weigh in on the conversation, that was exactly the point Wooyoung had explained to him quickly as he pulled him towards the group.

“Just pull shit out of your ass and watch them argue, come on this is how I get through Yeosang’s club meetings all the time. It’s fun.”

So Jongho did exactly that. Following Wooyoung’s lead for most of it and holding back laughter to the best of his ability every time Wooyoung said something completely asinine disguised as an actual intelligent statement. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time. He’d never thought he could say so little with so many big words.

“You see here in this painting. It clearly represents the inner turmoil of life and how in the end, everything is pointless,” he gushed dramatically. It was a painting clearly of a bird in a tree, nothing more than a landscape but was he going to milk this for everything he could. The critics around him nodded profoundly at his bullshit. Wooyoung held back howling laughter as he continued. “And here, this black dot. The _only_ black dot on this canvas mind you, represents us and how insignificant we are in the grand scheme of things.”

Wooyoung had clutched his arm tightly, fingers digging in harshly to stop himself from laughing and ruining their fun little game. Jongho held back a smile, finding the man’s attempts to be very endearing.

They split off from the group when they ended up looping back around to paintings they had already looked at. Jongho took great pride in the fact that the entourage actually looked sad to see “Cornelius and Maximillian”, the fake pretentious names they had come up with for one another, leave their posse. One of them even went as far as to give Jongho their business card, saying to call him if he was ever looking for a job in the… whatever-it-was-those-people-did-exactly industry. Wooyoung had practically collapsed to the floor in laughter as soon as the group was far enough away. Jongho kept him upright, laughing in a much more controlled way but still quite hard nonetheless.

“I can’t believe…” Wooyoung wheezed through his laughter. “You convinced that _entire_ group, that an artist painted a banana in a still life painting to represent their ‘suppressed sexual desires’. Oh my god, I can’t breathe—”

Once they were both no longer laughing—though Wooyoung would continue to break into intermittent giggles throughout the night—they headed back to Yeosang’s section of the gallery, deciding they had seen enough of other people’s work to be satisfied for the night.

Before they started their look around of Yeosang’s area, however, Jongho noticed a distinct lack of Yeosang to be found. Wooyoung too, found this suspicious but, after a quick look around, they had found both Yeosang and Yunho just outside the entrance to the exhibit. Yunho looked nervous as he stood across from Yeosang and that’s what clued Jongho into what exactly was happening. He pulled Wooyoung back before he could approach the pair, clearly not seeing the same thing Jongho was. Suddenly, Yunho’s strange wink and thumbs up earlier made a lot more sense.

“Hey, what—” Wooyoung tried to protest.

“We don’t wanna go over there,” Jongho said, watching Yunho clearly stutter over his words. Neither of them could hear what they were saying, nor could they read lips, but their body language was enough for Jongho. “I think… I think Yunho’s finally doing it.”

“No fucking way,” Wooyoung exclaimed quietly. His head whipped back over to the pair just as Yeosang nodded enthusiastically and practically threw himself at the taller in a hug. “Fucking finally.”

“I was getting tired of them dancing around each other.”

“You and me both, hon.”

They decided to let the new couple be by themselves for the time being. It was a long time coming, after all, and the two of them still had to look at Yeosang’s work anyway.

Jongho had, of course, been impressed by the work of everyone showcased at the gallery, but absolutely nothing compared to seeing his friend’s work hanging in such a professional setting. Every piece was more stunning the last and just when Jongho had thought he’d seen it all, one final painting that they came across absolutely stole his breath away.

It wasn’t a particularly large painting, nor was it as eye-catching as some of Yeosang’s other works were. The colors were quite muted in comparison to what he normally used, much more natural and raw, which fit the tone of the painting quite well. Jongho had almost missed it entirely in his initial look around but the subject material had caught the corner of his eye. He was so glad he had looked twice.

The painting was of Wooyoung, that much was painfully clear the second Jongho looked at it. But unlike the other splatter painting, this one was realism and so spot on to the real deal it was almost shocking. Jongho didn’t know paintings could look so real. It was a side profile of Wooyoung, he stood at a music stand clearly in one of the music department’s study rooms next to a large window. But the most captivating part was the fact that it was a still image of him playing his violin. His eyes were closed, his painted hair looking just a fluffy as it did, in reality, his clothes were his usual baggy and mismatched style with those pink laced converse Jongho had grown so accustomed to seeing and his thick-rimmed glasses sitting low on his nose. He didn’t know how he did it, but Yeosang had managed to capture exactly what had captivated Jongho so thoroughly in those videos. The passion Wooyoung clearly had, the amount of love and dedication he put into every stroke of his bow. His technique was good, his musicality exactly what you would expect, but nothing—absolutely nothing—topped the love Wooyoung put into each note he coaxed from his instrument. Jongho couldn’t look away from the painting, utterly shell-shocked by its depiction of something so intangible. Yeosang had known all along that Wooyoung would be exactly what Jongho had been looking for, that much was clear to him now. No wonder he had been so insistent about giving him a chance.

“What are you looking at?” Wooyoung asked when he noticed that Jongho was no longer following him. Jongho couldn’t look away right now if he even if he tried. Just a little longer. He wanted to take it all in, his heart feeling light and fluttery.

“It’s just—” Jongho cleared his throat. “It’s just this painting, it’s really good.”

“Oh yeah,” Wooyoung agreed slowly, looking at the painting. He clearly didn’t see what Jongho saw when he looked at it. “Sangie’s pretty good at realism don’t you think? He even managed to get my devastatingly sharp jawline just right.”

“Yeah,” Jongho agreed with a short laugh. He didn’t know if he should bother trying to explain why exactly it was that he liked this painting so much. Wooyoung looked up at him with wide eyes, noticing that there was something more to it than what he had just said. It couldn’t hurt, Jongho decided. “I’m more impressed that he managed to capture the way you look when you play.”

“The way I look?”

“Maybe that’s not the best way to put it,” Jongho decided. “I’m not very good with words but there’s just… something special that happens whenever you start playing.”

Wooyoung waited for more of an explanation, cocking his head slightly in confusion.

“You’re normally so animated, right? But when you play… there’s like this spark… your passion really shines through. It’s mesmerizing.”

“Mesmerizing,” Wooyoung echoed, looking back to the painting as if trying to see what it was that Jongho saw. Jongho’s line of sight stayed on Wooyoung now, watching him analyze his own form in the painting in front of them. “I don’t think anyone’s ever used that word to describe me before…”

Wooyoung looked back over to him as he said it, his voice trailing off at the end when he noticed Jongho was still looking at him. He opened his mouth as if to say something more but closed it again soon after. His eyes flitted back and forth for a moment before settling back on Jongho’s and holding his gaze, a smile slowly coming to his lips. Jongho’s breath was stolen from him in instant. He was torn between moving closer and running away completely. This was new territory for him. He knew what the feeling was, the affection boiling up from his stomach was too much to ignore. But what scared him, was that he wasn’t sure those feelings were completely friendly… Wooyoung seemed to lean forward silently, head tilting ever so slightly as if to ask: _What next?_

“We should… go find Yeosang,” Jongho decided, his voice barely loud enough to be heard over all the chatter in the room. Wooyoung nodded in agreement, linking their arms once more so they wouldn’t get lost before they went in search of their friend once more.

Jongho couldn’t shake that feeling for the rest of the night, however. For a moment there and seemingly out of absolutely nowhere, he had seriously considered leaning forward and seeing what those plush lips felt like against his own. He wondered if Wooyoung had felt the same way.

~*12*~

A week passed in relative normalcy after the art gallery, but there was hardly a dull moment when it came to Wooyoung. They kept up their usual meetings, working for a few hours every few days to try and lock down the backing instrumental at the very least. Wooyoung really was good at coming up with interesting spins on the melodies Jongho wrote when he put the effort in. Sometimes it was hard getting him to the point where he was ready to be serious, but Jongho had a system now. Usually offering the man something sweet as compensation for an hour of work did the trick; he really did love sweet things.

Today, Jongho had figured would be no different when he set up the meeting earlier even if there would be a slight change of location. Jongho had decided to skip his classes for the day, waking up feeling groggy and gross early in the morning after staying up entirely too late once again to write _something_ for his song. His alarm had gone off way too early, his body had protested his every move, so he had just decided to take it easy today. He’d been working hard the past few days and he knew he could get away with not showing up to his three lectures today. So he saw no harm and the extra sleep was _always_ welcome. But since he had decided to not leave his apartment, he didn’t want to walk all the way to campus to meet up with Wooyoung. It was cold and, though he hated to make Wooyoung walk through the cold instead, he had opted to invite the man to his apartment to work on the song. Wooyoung had immediately agreed and promised he would try his best to be on time. Jongho wasn’t worried, but he still teased the man about his punctuality anyway.

However, the second Jongho opened the door to find Wooyoung standing before him, he’d decided that today, things were going to be different.

The first thing Jongho noticed was that the smile Wooyoung wore on his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. His eyes themselves had dark circles under them, deeper than normal. He wore his glasses for the first time in a while. The usual fashionable way that he had begun dressing was gone today, replaced with a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. His hair hung limply in his eyes, looking a little damp from the cold rain outside. He looked… so very tired.

Jongho wasn’t surprised. He had been amazed by the man’s energy on so many occasions, wondering how the hell he found the time to help all these people while still keeping up with his own schedule. He was always awake whenever Jongho texted him, no matter what time of night it was. His ability to keep going at full energy was incredible, but it seemed, even Wooyoung had a limit. Jongho had made his decision the instant he took in the older man’s appearance. There was no way he was going to make Wooyoung work when he looked like that. Not with how tired he very clearly was.

“Hey,” Wooyoung said, smiling up at him. It almost looked normal, and if Jongho hadn’t been spending so much time with the man as of late, he might not have even noticed it at all. But Jongho had seen that smile, the _real_ smile, in its full beauty. This one was a good attempt, but it was still a fake. “I’m on time, see? I told you.”

Jongho gave a small laugh, moving to the side to let Wooyoung into his home. He had spent a good hour cleaning the place once Wooyoung had agreed, embarrassed to have the man show up and see the way he normally lived. His apartment was due for a clean anyway, but this way he had a reason to actually get it done.

Wooyoung stepped inside, taking a brief look around slowly before following Jongho further into the living room. The apartment was small; it was only him living here, it didn’t need to be very big. Just a kitchen attached to a living room big enough for a couch and a coffee table, and then a bedroom off to the side with a bathroom. It wasn’t much but it was home, and relatively cheap since Jongho really didn’t have the money for much else.

Wooyoung set his instrument case on the kitchen counter and then slid his backpack and jacket off after in one less than graceful motion. His movements were heavy and slow; Jongho felt legitimately worried Wooyoung might collapse at a moment’s notice for a minute there.

“So, what did you want to get done today?” Wooyoung asked, starting to unlatch his case and pull out his instrument. Jongho caught his hands, stopping him before he could do so.

“You look really tired, hyung,” Jongho said, letting go of him before he lingered too long where he shouldn’t. Wooyoung blinked at him, clearly a little confused by what was happening.

“No, I’m okay,” Wooyoung said, trying to smile. He wasn’t convincing Jongho though it was a nice attempt. “I just had an early morning today, is all.”

Jongho just had to come right out and say it. He was concerned for his friend; he couldn’t let him work under these conditions anymore. He knew Wooyoung would never make the decision to relax all by himself, not when he had already dedicated himself to helping someone else. As anxious as Jongho felt to offer something that was so very different than the normal way they spent their time together, he just had to do it. Rip it off like a band-aid.

“Do you just want to… I don’t know, sit around today? We still have enough time, a one-day break isn’t going to kill us.” Jongho could hardly believe the words he was saying. These thoughts a month and a half ago never would’ve crossed his mind. Wooyoung looked just as confused.

“You mean like… chill instead of working?” He asked slowly, clearly skeptical of what Jongho was offering. “Are _you_ feeling okay? Where did Mr. All-Work-And-No-Play go?”

Jongho chuckled, understanding where the concern was coming from.

“When was the last time you sat down and did something for just you, hyung?” Jongho asked instead of answering. Wooyoung paused for a second, looking like he wanted to protest but couldn’t come up with a convincing answer. Jongho wasn’t sure he even wanted to know the answer to that question anyway. It would probably just worry him more than he already was. “Come on, we can watch that movie you were talking about the other day.”

“Are you…” Wooyoung looked actually shell-shocked. “Are you saying… you wanna watch Disney movies with me… instead of working?! Oh no, I’ve gotta call Yeosang. There’s something wrong with you.”

“What? No,” Jongho immediately retaliated, trying to grab the phone that Wooyoung had pulled out from his pants. Wooyoung shrieked at him, barely escaping Jongho’s attempts to catch him and scampering to the other side of the room. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I just think we can take it easy.”

“I don’t believe you!” Wooyoung retaliated loudly, running away again as Jongho tried to approach him. Jongho rolled his eyes, watching the man continue to scream in protest and avoid his every attempt to catch him. “Don’t touch me! You must be sick or something! Who are you!? What have you done with Jongho!?”

“You’re being dramatic!” Jongho laughed, lunging forward and grabbing Wooyoung around the waist. Wooyoung kicked and squirmed in his grasp, but Jongho was stronger than him in almost every way. That didn’t stop the other from trying to escape still, bracing his hands on Jongho’s chest and pushing away as hard as he could. It wasn’t working but the large smile on Wooyoung’s face—a real smile that whisked away all traces of exhaustion from his expression—told Jongho that he didn’t really mind being trapped where he was.

“Imposter! I’m in the wrong house! Someone help me!” Wooyoung wiggled in his arms, his laughter twinkling through Jongho’s ears in between his shouts for help. Then, all of a sudden, he went completely limp, taking Jongho completely by surprise, the deadweight offsetting the balance they had before. Before Jongho could right himself, the pair of them were falling to the ground in a mess of entangled limbs. Jongho just barely caught Wooyoung’s head, stopping it from smashing into the ground out of pure instinct.

An explosion of giggles erupted from Wooyoung underneath him, Jongho could feel the way it shook his body. Jongho looked down, his face feeling warm as he noticed just how… _intimate_ this felt. His one hand was entangled in the back of Wooyoung’s head, soft strands of pretty purple hair slipping past his finger; the other was still around the man’s waist, trapped uncomfortably underneath him from the fall. Wooyoung’s hands were still braced on his chest, no longer pushing against him but rather resting relaxed. Their faces were so close, practically nose to nose. Seeing that smile so close… Jongho quickly stood up from their position before he did anything he might regret.

“Are you done panicking now?” He scoffed teasingly, extending a hand to help Wooyoung off the floor as well. He took it, letting Jongho do all the work to pull him up.

“I suppose… but you really don’t have to worry about me. If you’d rather just get to work like normal, I’ll be able to power through. It is a Friday after all, I can just go home and sleep all day tomorrow,” Wooyoung said as he got back on his feet. He looked a little hesitant, only meeting Jongho’s eyes for a second before looking away. Jongho hated that insecurity and whoever had put it there in the first place.

“No, I want to,” Jongho decided. He knew Wooyoung would never agree if there was even a sliver of a doubt that Jongho would rather be doing something else. And while he would, of course, want to continue making progress on their song, their mental and emotional health came first. It’s why Jongho had decided to stay home today, and why he was now hellbent on making sure Wooyoung didn’t work himself to death from here on out. He had made a promise earlier, not out loud of course, but a promise nonetheless to offer Wooyoung a helping hand whenever he could manage and there was no time like the present to start.

“You do look really tired, hyung” Jongho continued, his voice quiet and hopefully conveying his seriousness. Wooyoung sighed at him, his eyes softening as he looked at the younger man.

“Alright, I give in. If you’re sure, then,” he said. He gave a short laugh, shaking his head before continuing: “I should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. I’m the older one in this relationship.”

“Get better at taking care of yourself, then,” Jongho teased. Wooyoung smacked his arm with a scoff but willingly followed him over to the couch where he quickly made himself comfortable. Remembering all the times Wooyoung had raved about the cutesy animations that Disney always put out, Jongho figured that would be a safe bet. Jongho didn’t have strong feelings regarding those kinds of movies, so if Wooyoung liked them, that was good enough for him.

Once he got the TV working properly and had flipped the lights out, he joined Wooyoung on the couch. Almost instantly, Wooyoung shifted closer to him, cuddling up close and basically forcing Jongho into the position he wanted him in.

“Comfortable?” Jongho teased, moving his arm to more comfortably rest around Wooyoung’s body. They both sat on the couch sideways, their legs propped up on the remaining empty cushions so they could stretch out. Wooyoung sat between Jongho’s legs, his back resting against his chest with his head just below Jongho’s chin.

“Very,” Wooyoung decided, leaning his head back against Jongho’s shoulder. His hair smelled like strawberries, Jongho decided with a small twinge of horror. It was… very lovely. Wooyoung shivered against Jongho’s body, settling in closer happily. “God, you are so warm. It just isn’t fair.”

Jongho laughed. Oh, if Yeosang could see him now. He _hated_ skinship. Hugs made him uncomfortable, he didn’t like to initiate physical contact of any kind. He was much more content to just appreciate the people around him from afar. But this was… nice. Even as the movie started and went by, Jongho found himself feeling nothing but comfortable and content. This was… nice. Wooyoung’s weight against him was nice, comforting.

Jongho wasn’t at all surprised when Wooyoung fell asleep against him, his head lulling into Jongho’s chin as he succumbed to the temptation. Jongho did his best not to wake him, watching the rest of the movie in silence and seeing why Wooyoung liked the film so much. It was happy and colorful, the music cheerful and uplifting.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep too, listening to the sound of colorful characters singing their hearts out. He only knew when he woke up to his TV automatically shutting off that they’d been out for a while. A quick check of the time told him it was getting pretty late. Wooyoung should really be heading home soon if he wanted to catch a train back home instead of walking the entire distance. Looking down at the man in his arms, Jongho really didn’t want to move him.

Wooyoung was cuddled oh-so delicately against him, having flipped around in his sleep at some point so they were laying stomach to stomach. He had his ear resting where Jongho’s heart was, his arms wrapped underneath his torso, cuddled as close to the warmth Jongho gave off as he could be.

Jongho really didn’t want to wake him; Wooyoung really needed his sleep. But Jongho also didn’t want to be a teddy bear on the couch for however long Wooyoung would be asleep for. His neck hurt, and his leg was falling asleep where Wooyoung’s hip dug into it. They would have to move eventually anyway… might as well send Wooyoung on his way home sooner rather than later.

“Hyung,” he whispered, shaking the older man gently until eventually, those large brown eyes were slowly fluttering open. Wooyoung blinked at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out where he was exactly. When Jongho’s face came into clarity, he smiled at him as he sat up properly. Jongho immediately felt the loss, the cold seeping back into the space Wooyoung had occupied. He resisted the urge to pull him right back as he too readjusted his position on the couch.

“Since when have I been hyung to you?” Wooyoung giggled, rubbing at his eyes, still in the process of waking up.

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Jongho countered instead of coming up with an answer. He really wasn’t sure when it had started now that Wooyoung brought it up.

“Fair enough,” the other gave him. He pulled out his phone then, checking the time for himself with a large sigh. “I guess I should be going home… the last train is at ten.”

“Yeah,” Jongho agreed. He hoped he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt. He liked talking to Wooyoung, and while they would normally be texting by this time of the night, having the real deal right there in the room with him would always beat out the artificial conversation.

“Thank you for… well you know, everything. Forcing me to take a break and all that,” Wooyoung said, his voice quiet and his eyes looking everywhere but Jongho. “I… You were right. I needed a break.”

“You just gotta… you know, take care of yourself sometimes too,” Jongho said, forcing his way through the sentence as embarrassed as he felt to say his thoughts out loud. “I just… worry about my friends. You’re allowed to say no when someone needs help.”

“Ah yeah… I’ve always been bad at that.” Wooyoung scratched at his chin, looking as if he were letting Jongho’s words really sink it. His gaze finally settled back on Jongho, their eyes meeting once more as he said: “So thank you. I’ll try to get better. I’m kind of a lousy hyung, huh? Having my dongsaeng take care of me.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Jongho chastised. Wooyoung laughed, his smile shining even through the darkness. A pleasant feeling settled in Jongho’s stomach having Wooyoung smile at him like that, his eyes all scrunched up in beautiful crescents. Jongho didn’t move as Wooyoung leaned ever-so-slightly forward like he had back at the art gallery. He held his breath, unsure of what would happen if he just didn’t move. Would Wooyoung come even closer still? Would Jongho mind if he did? The jittering feeling in his heart told him he wouldn’t.

The smile on Wooyoung’s face slowly melted away but the affection stayed in his gaze. This felt comfortable. The felt warm. Familiar. As if it were only a natural progression to their relationship; one Jongho wouldn’t mind indulging if Wooyoung made the first move. He would let him, Jongho decided. If Wooyoung were to kiss him at this moment, Jongho would let him.

But then Wooyoung broke their eye contact and moved away, standing up from the couch and stretching out his limbs.

“Alright, I’ve got a long walk home,” he announced. “I should get going.”

Jongho understood his reasoning. But he still couldn’t help but feel very disappointed despite himself.

~*13*~

Jongho put his phone down, closing and locking it before turning his full attention back to Yeosang. He was met with an annoyed expression on the older man’s face.

“Sorry, hyung,” he apologized, resisting the urge to pick back up his phone when he felt it vibrate on the table. He was supposed to be having lunch with Yeosang, not chatting with Wooyoung for the hour break he had. As much as he would really like to do both. He hadn’t been able to talk much with Yeosang lately. He could always pick back up the conversation with Wooyoung later. “What were you saying?”

“I asked how the work on your song is coming along,” Yeosang said. Jongho could hear the annoyance at having to repeat himself in his voice too.

“Oh, it’s going okay. We’ve made a lot of progress on the backing instrumental, that’s almost completely done now. It’s just the lyrics…” Jongho explained. Yeosang nodded in understanding, taking a bite of his food. Jongho got the feeling that the older man wasn’t asking about his song simply because he wanted to know about his progress; it felt much more like he was going to use this new topic as a segue into something else entirely. He was very afraid of what might come next.

“Is it the same issue? The whole ‘I’ve never been in love’ thing?” Yeosang asked next. Jongho shifted in his chair; he had a feeling he knew where Yeosang was going with this.

“Yeah, it’s the same old same old for the most part,” he explained anyway, hoping that maybe he was wrong. “Mingi says I have a couple of good lines though, so I’ve been trying to expand upon those. I think I may be getting somewhere lately.”

“Hmm,” Yeosang hummed in agreement, not even looking up from his food as he ate. “You and Wooyoung have been getting pretty close lately, wouldn’t you say?”

There it was. The question he knew was coming.

“We’re just trying to get the song finished,” Jongho unconvincingly tried to deflect. He knew Yeosang could see right through it too, but it was worth a shot.

“I can hardly talk to one of you without you talking to the other at the same time,” he countered, pointing at the phone lying face down on the table in front of Jongho. They both knew that if Jongho flipped it over, there would be multiple text messages from the very topic of discussion flashing across the screen. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t think I… understand that question, hyung,” Jongho said. What was Yeosang trying to insinuate here? “I know I wasn’t exactly very… accepting of the way Wooyoung is initially and I mean, you were right all along. Wooyoung _is_ a really great guy and we spend so much time together because of my song so it makes sense that we would become friends.”

“We both know that’s not what I meant, Jongho,” Yeosang said quietly. “I’m talking close as in… closer than friends.”

Jongho felt a twinge if anxiety echo in his stomach. His very own fears being repeated back to him. If Yeosang could see it too, then there had to be some merit to them.

“I—I—” Jongho tried to explain, but the right words were lost to him. “I really don’t know what to say.”

“I just want you to know a few things, is all,” Yeosang said, his voice much less hostile now. “Wooyoung… he’s had a lot of trouble in the past with this sort of thing.”

Jongho didn’t say anything, waiting for Yeosang to elaborate further on what he meant by a statement like that. They were both dancing around the topic, Yeosang not wanting to insinuate something he didn’t know, and Jongho too afraid to put words to the feelings he’d been experiencing as of late.

“He’s such a sweet guy but a little naïve sometimes… a lot of people have used that against him. He doesn’t have the best… track history when it comes to the guys he’s chosen to be in a relationship with.” Yeosang continued. Jongho remembered what Yunho had said however many weeks ago. He remembered how often Wooyoung checked to make sure Jongho was still following him, was still listening despite Jongho never having left before anyway. He knew it would’ve had to have been something like that to cause such habits but hearing it out loud made it that much more real. His gut churned at the thought of something taking advantage of his friend. The thought of doing so himself made him sick to his stomach. “I’m not insinuating that you would do that to him. You’re a good guy and I know you’d do the right thing. That’s not what I’m warning you about. What I’m worried about is you… leading him on.”

“Leading him on?” Jongho asked, feeling rather betrayed for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of. “Yeosang, I would never—”

“Just listen to me a second, okay? I’m only saying this because you’re both my friends and I don’t wanna see either of you hurt. Wooyoung falls easy, and he falls fast. I’ve seen it happen so many times and you might not even realize it’s happened. He also gets over crushes fast if he feels the other isn’t interested but the issue comes when… he doesn’t get that feeling.”

Jongho didn’t know what to say. It had never even crossed his mind that Wooyoung could’ve been potentially thinking about him in a less than friendly manner also. The thought was so completely foreign to him. All this time worrying that his feelings were strange, that his feelings were out of place, it had never even occurred to him that Wooyoung could be experiencing the same thing. Could he tell Yeosang about his inner turmoil? Would the man understand if he told him he was just confused right now? Would it help to just say his piece out loud for at least _someone_ to hear?

He opened his mouth to start but closed it again. Unsure of how to even go about phrasing this in a way that Yeosang would understand.

“I don’t have any intention of hurting him,” Jongho settled on, unable to look up at Yeosang as he said it. He meant a lot more to his statement than just what he was responding to and he wasn’t sure if Yeosang completely understood but at least it was out there on the table now.

“Just be careful is all I’m saying,” Yeosang agreed. “It’s his birthday next week, don’t forget.”

Jongho had remembered. He hadn’t let himself forget after what the man had done for him on his birthday. He still had to return the favor.

“I won’t,” Jongho agreed. He was glad Yeosang had told him all these things about Wooyoung. It had opened his eyes to so many things but also… he found himself more confused than ever before by the strange mixture of emotions he felt whenever Wooyoung inexplicably found his way into the forefront of his thoughts.

~*14*~

“You’re a dance major?!” Jongho exclaimed; he couldn’t believe the sight before him.

Yeosang had texted Jongho this morning, reminding him for what was probably the fifteenth time this week that today was Wooyoung’s birthday. Jongho had, of course, not forgotten but Yeosang apparently had very little faith in him. He would’ve been offended if he didn’t know Yeosang was only looking out for the both of them. He had also informed Jongho that Hongjoong and Seonghwa were hosting a birthday party for the man; it was Hongjoong’s way of thanking him for saving him during that crisis weeks ago. Jongho’s job would be to pick Wooyoung up from his tri-weekly practice and bring him to the party without him catching on.

Jongho had gone to the building Yeosang’s had told him to, momentarily confused to find himself in front of what he had always thought to be the dance department’s hall. He shook it off, though, this was clearly where Yeosang had told him to go. His suspicions were confirmed when he searched through the building’s many hallways, finding dance studio after studio, most of them full of other students practicing well into the night. When he finally found the room he was looking for, saw its occupant in his full glory, realization suddenly hit him. Oh, he felt so very stupid.

Wooyoung laughed at him when their eyes met in the mirror against the far wall. Jongho was so glad there was no one else in the small studio with them at the moment so no one else had to witness his utter stupidity. He felt so embarrassed. How could he not have known something so important about his friend? Suddenly, things made more sense. Why he had never seen Wooyoung at any of the symphony orchestra practices he went scouting through. Why Wooyoung hadn’t responded to his music department ad in the first place when the man lives to help people.

He wasn’t a music major.

Jongho felt so very dumb right now. How had he never asked what Wooyoung’s major was? Never asked for clarification whenever Wooyoung mentioned his practice schedule?

“What are you doing here?” Wooyoung asked but looked more than happy to see Jongho show up unannounced. “I don’t think we had a meeting scheduled.”

“No, we don’t,” Jongho agreed. “I was sent to pick you up for something but now I feel kind of silly. You’re a dance major?”

He asked the question again, still in disbelief. How could he have just never asked?

Wooyoung brushed his hair out of his eyes as he approached Jongho, slicking it back in one movement. Jongho nearly short-circuited more than he already was. Wooyoung always looked nice even when he was a complete mess; Jongho had come to terms with this fact a while ago. But there were just moments where Jongho was just _really_ whacked over the head with his good looks.

Right now was one of those times.

Wooyoung was dressed in what Jongho assumed was his normal dance practice attire but it was so very different from the way he normally outfitted himself. He wore a loose-fitting tank top, showing off muscular arms and broad shoulders. His pants were tight black leggings, leaving nothing to the imagination when it came to the shape of his legs; thick thighs and sharp muscles on full display. Every inch of his tan skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, glistening in the lights above. His hair was stuck in place, slicked back out of his eyes by his own sweat, showing off the dark roots starting to appear through the oh-so-pretty lilac. It was a good thing Jongho was waiting for an answer to his question; he didn’t think he could form words right now even if he tried.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answered with a breathless sigh, bending down to pick up his water bottle off the ground. Jongho averted his eyes to avoid his jaw actually dropping to the floor. “You didn’t know?”

Jongho shook his head; knowing that if he tried to speak, his voice would come out squeaky and broken. Wooyoung balked at him, just as shocked as Jongho was.

“What? I thought Yeosang told you,” Wooyoung tired to make sense of the situation. Jongho shook his head again. Wooyoung tsked, shaking out his hair with a lazy hand, leaving it sticking up every which way. _Cute._ “Well, surprise?”

Jongho laughed, looking around the room. It made sense now that he thought about it. With the amount of energy Wooyoung always had, he just didn’t fit into a profession that required him to sit still for hours on end with extreme focus. Dancing was a perfect outlet for someone so creative, so bubbly and energetic. And if Wooyoung looked passionate while playing his instrument, something that wasn’t even a main focus in his life, Jongho couldn’t even imagine what his true passion would look like across his pleasant face.

“I feel really bad now,” Jongho laughed again. “Like wow.”

“It’s okay,” Wooyoung brushed off, before smiling deviously: “You can make it up to me by watching my latest routine and telling me what you think?”

“I know absolutely nothing about dance,” Jongho admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I don’t think I’ll be able to offer you much.”

“That’s okay!” Wooyoung immediately defended, grabbing Jongho’s arm and leading him to stand in front of the mirrors. “All you have to do is watch and tell me what you think. That’s it!”

“Alright,” Jongho conceded. He was here anyway, and he did feel really awful for not knowing what Wooyoung’s actual major was. On top of that, it was also the man’s birthday. He couldn’t just blow the guy off on his birthday of all days.

Wooyoung scampered excitedly around the small studio once Jongho agreed, getting the room ready and queueing up the music. Jongho slid down to sit on the floor patiently waiting for Wooyoung to start.

Once the slow and sensual beat reverberated around the room, vibrating the very air around him, Jongho knew he was in trouble. He should’ve asked what the theme of this dance would be, so he could’ve at least mentally prepared himself for the sight now before his eyes.

Wooyoung was attractive, but the danger always came from the fact that he was _completely_ aware of just how handsome, how _sexy,_ he could actually be. Of course, the dance Wooyoung would choreograph for himself would accentuate those qualities. The movements were slow but powerful, each one expertly showing off a different, gorgeous line of Wooyoung’s body. The way he moved, the way he rolled his hips, the energy that flowed through every extension, the intense expression he wore that darkly contrasted his usually vibrant smile… To say that Jongho was entranced, absolutely mesmerized, would be an understatement. He almost felt like he shouldn’t be watching this, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away either. This side of Wooyoung was just so different… intense, powerful, utterly captivating, and Jongho couldn’t say he didn’t feel anything towards this new perspective.

When Wooyoung stopped dancing and moved to turn the music off, it didn’t even click in Jongho’s head right away. He was left staring dumbfounded at the now empty space. If he had been short-circuiting before, he was undergoing a full meltdown now.

“So?” Wooyoung’s voice came out of nowhere and Jongho very visibly jumped when he realized Wooyoung’s face was right in front of his, hovering there as he waited for Jongho’s response. He giggled when Jongho jumped; hopefully, he didn’t notice the blush that was almost certainly overtaking his face now too. He felt… well, he didn’t quite know what he felt. He didn’t let his mind wander any further than it already had, afraid of what impure images his imagination could conjure up in response to the sensual dance he had just witnessed.

“I—Uh—” Jongho cleared his throat, trying to force out the words that were getting stuck in his throat, his mouth so very dry. “It was really good. I—uhh… I liked that… a lot. You’re really good.”

Wooyoung looked so very pleased by the praise, practically glowing upon hearing those words. The duality just wasn’t fair. That smile was so precious To go from downright sexy and utterly dangerous to a soft, precious ball of fluff… Jongho was going to get whiplash at this rate. He decided he needed to change the conversation quickly before he dug himself into a hole he couldn’t escape. Wooyoung would never let him live it down if he discovered the chaotic turmoil that dance had sent Jongho’s mind into. Confusion didn’t even begin to describe the plethora of emotions he was cycling through. Yes, it was for the best to move on.

“Oh!” He exclaimed quickly, scrambling to grab his bag off his back before digging through it. “Before I forget.”

He found what he was looking for: a small box that had taken way to long to wrap with Jongho’s clumsy fingers. He held out the dark blue shiny box to Wooyoung, unable to meet his eyes as the older man took it from him.

“What is this?” He asked, giving the box a gentle shake next to his ear and looking absolutely perplexed.

“It’s for your birthday, hyung,” Jongho laughed when it just wasn’t clicking on the man’s face.

“Oh!” Wooyoung exclaimed but then immediately looked ashamed of himself. “Now _I_ feel kinda silly.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Jongho laughed, watching the guilty smile slowly appear on Wooyoung’s face. “You’re a mess, hyung.”

“Okay no, I didn’t forget,” Wooyoung tried to defend, a fake pout overtaking his features. “I’ve just been really busy today. So it hasn’t _felt_ like my birthday. Well, not until right now at least.”

He looked down at the present in his hands, holding it tentatively as if it would disintegrate at the slightest movement.

“You can open it now if you want,” Jongho said quietly, suddenly very nervous. He’d spent a very long—and very embarrassing—time coming up with a gift. He couldn’t just not get him something, not after everything the older man had done for him. He couldn’t take credit for the idea; that went to Mingi who had suggested it just to get Jongho to stop going on and on about it. It was too good an idea to pass up, if not a little expensive for something so small but it would all be worth it if Wooyoung liked it.

Wooyoung tore into the paper tentatively, slowly unwrapping the box hidden within. He shrieked in what Jongho hoped was delight once he saw the packaging, practically flinging the remaining paper away from him as fast as he possibly could. He stared at the uncovered box in front of him, the colorful packaging of a small chimmy charm to hang off a phone case staring back up at him.

“Do you—” Before Jongho could even finish asking the question, Wooyoung was tackling him to the ground in a bone-crushing hug.

“I love it! I love it so much!” He yelled into Jongho’s chest. Jongho laughed once he got over his initial surprise.

“Happy birthday, hyung,” he told him. Wooyoung looked up at him, his chin resting against Jongho’s chest and a small but very happy smile on his face. He stayed where he was for a moment longer before standing back up. Jongho followed after him, watching the man lovingly look at the box in his hands.

“Thank you, this is…” Wooyoung paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “This is really great.”

They stayed in pleasant silence for a minute, neither of them wanting to ruin the moment. Jongho was caught up in the intimacy of it all, but they did still have a party to get to. As much as he would rather have Wooyoung all to himself for the night, Hongjoong and Yeosang both would kill him for it. He reluctantly broke the silence before it stretched on for too long: 

“Uhh… About why I’m here,” Jongho started. “Besides it being your birthday, of course.”

Wooyoung looked at him, waiting for him to continue silently.

“I came here to pick you up,” he repeated from earlier.

“For what?” Wooyoung asked, clearly excited but trying his best to keep it contained.

“I can’t tell you that,” Jongho said, a smile threatening to break through his façade as he watched Wooyoung’s happiness.

“Does it, perhaps have anything to do with the fact that it is my birthday?” He asked. Jongho shrugged.

“You’ll just have to come with me to find out.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Wooyoung teased. “Alright, alright, but I have to get changed.”

“No rush,” Jongho agreed. “Take your time.”

It was another fifteen minutes till they were on their way to Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s house for the party, but Jongho didn’t mind waiting. Wooyoung emerged from the bathroom, dressed stylishly and freshly showered as he rubbed at his hair with a towel. The scent of strawberries instantly hit Jongho as he walked towards him; Jongho put the memories of last week out of his mind as quickly as he could, not needing any more invasive thoughts than what he was already dealing with. Then, they left together, Jongho not even thinking twice as Wooyoung interlaced their fingers together, swinging their conjoined hands happily as they walked.

~*15*~

The party was a hit… or at least as far as Jongho could tell it was. He’d never been very big on parties, so he had nothing to really compare this to. Wooyoung was more than ecstatic, though, so Jongho was happy too. Even if he wasn’t quite sure how he fit into this scene.

He wasn’t the most outgoing person on the planet as of late, much more content to spend the night with his close friends than with a bunch of strangers. He liked meeting new people well enough and he used to go to a lot more parties when he was still on the soccer team, but lately… he just felt out of place. Which was probably why he found himself sitting on the couch, watching the festivities happening around him instead of actively participating. He was much more content to observe how happy everyone was instead of being right in the middle of it all. Seeing Wooyoung’s smile, even from afar put him at ease.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s home was a lot larger than he would’ve imagined. He supposed since both of them were being paid by the school to go to graduate school and work as TAs, it made sense that they would have more money to spend on housing. It certainly came in handy now, seeing as they were hosting a party with quite a few attendees. Jongho wasn’t at all surprised that Wooyoung had so many friends. There were at least twenty people meandering around both the living room and kitchen. Seonghwa and Hongjoong went all out for this party, providing tons of choices in party food and, most importantly, an ample amount of alcohol. Jongho wasn’t too terribly interested in drinking; he’d had enough to feel pleasantly warm and then he was done for the night. Others were much more enthusiastically partaking in the refreshments provided to them. Especially Wooyoung, though Jongho couldn’t blame him. It was _his_ birthday; this was _his_ party. He was on his fifth drink if Jongho had been keeping track properly.

Jongho took another sip of his coke, watching the group across the room play some convoluted drinking game, whose rules probably made more sense if he was drunk too. To be fair, he couldn’t quite hear everything that was being said over all the rest of the chatter and the low music filling the empty space in the background. He was perfectly content to just watch from afar as various people were forced to do something dumb after losing some other part of the game, hearing Wooyoung burst into loud laughter periodically. Occasionally their eyes would meet across the room and Wooyoung would give him a drunken smile no less vibrant than normal. He was having a good time. Even if it didn’t quite look like that to anyone looking at him.

In hindsight, though, perhaps he should’ve been paying closer attention to what was actually happening in that slap-happy circle of people sitting on the floor…

About an hour into the start of the drinking game, Wooyoung suddenly stood up on shaky legs, yelling at the top of his lungs: “Yeah yeah, I get it! I lost! I’m going. I’m going!” as the group around him erupted into uncontrollable fits of giggles. They were all looking at him; Jongho didn’t like where this was going. Wooyoung stumbled his way over to Jongho, a lazy smile playing across his lips.

“I’m sorry to drag you into this,” Wooyoung slurred as he now stood in front of Jongho. He stumbled a bit; Jongho caught his hip but Wooyoung had a different solution to the problem in mind. He set his empty cup on the ground before climbing into Jongho’s lap with absolutely no warning. Jongho could do nothing but watch in complete and utter bafflement, unable to comprehend what exactly what was happening. He heard the group catcalling the two of them but Jongho was much more interested in the man now straddling his thighs and pulling himself close, so they were chest to chest. “But I lost and Yeonjun picked my punishment.”

Jongho could smell the sickly flavor of the vodka on his breath. Strawberry. The universe hated him. He was sure of it. He knew he should do something. Stop whatever was about to happen but after everything that had been building these past few weeks… Jongho just couldn’t find it in him to push the man away. Wooyoung was looking at him with such intensity even in his drunken state, searching for any hint that he should stop.

“What was your punishment?” Jongho asked, voice barely above a whisper as Wooyoung leaned in even closer. The older man closed his eyes; Jongho’s breath caught in his throat. He had an idea already what it was.

“To kiss my favorite person in the room,” Wooyoung said. Jongho felt an explosion of affection in his chest. “San was disappointed to say the very least.”

“What high honors,” Jongho laughed, holding back a shiver as he felt Wooyoung wrap his arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at his nape. Jongho let his own hands fall on the man’s slender waist.

“Are you okay with it?” He could hear the hint of fear in the man’s voice.

“It’s in the rules, isn’t it?” Jongho countered, not wanting to outright admit that he _really_ wanted Wooyoung to kiss him. Wooyoung giggled, sending goosebumps up Jongho’s spine. He felt the man’s breath before he lost all sense of brain function. When he felt Wooyoung’s lips on his own, Jongho didn’t even know who he was anymore. All that existed was the man on top of him, the party melted away completely. It was just a normal kiss, their lips locked together for a few brief, wonderful seconds. Wooyoung pulled away first, looking at Jongho through half-lidded eyes. Jongho held his gaze, unsure of what the man would do next, the taste of strawberry vodka lingering on his lips.

“Fuck it,” he heard Wooyoung mumble under his breath before surging back forward. The flood gates broke in that moment and all the feelings that Jongho had been suppressing came rushing to the forefront of his thoughts. Wooyoung kissed him again, much more passionate, much more enthusiastic, raw, emotional, less _innocent._ Wooyoung gripped his hair with one hand and the back of his shirt with the other, kissing him like his life depended on it. Jongho did his best to keep up, savoring each slide of his lips against the other’s. Wooyoung shifted in his lap, gasping oh-so deliciously into the kiss. He kissed exactly how Jongho had expected: full of surprises. He bit down on Jongho’s bottom lip gently, forcing open his mouth as he winced at the feeling and giving Wooyoung exactly what he wanted. When he felt the man’s tongue against his, he practically melted right there on the spot. He pulled Wooyoung even closer as they got more and more entranced in one another. A small whine escaped Wooyoung’s lips, the noise spilling into Jongho’s mouth; he just couldn’t get enough.

This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t be making out on one of his friend’s couches with quite possibly the prettiest human being he had ever laid eyes on. Nah, he was never that lucky. But here he was, with said prettiest human being’s tongue practically shoved down his throat.

Wooyoung broke away from him after what felt like an eternity, his cheeks bright red, lips kiss swollen and panting hard.

“Can you take me home?” Wooyoung whispered all of a sudden, only for Jongho to hear. “I think I’m done for the night. I just… want to go home but I don’t think I can make it there myself.”

“Yeah,” Jongho agreed, forcing the word out despite how his voice broke. He nodded his head to make it clearer. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Wooyoung got off Jongho stiffly without a word, unable to meet Jongho’s eyes all of a sudden. He couldn’t help the pang of anxiety that maybe he had done something wrong…

His anxiety was quickly put to rest, however, once they were both back on their feet. Wooyoung slipped his hand into Jongho’s without a word, hanging off his arm to stay upright as they made their way towards the front door. Jongho helped Wooyoung into his jacket and his shoes before they exited the house entirely. Wooyoung fished his keys out of his pocket as they walked, handing them off to Jongho since he was completely confident he didn’t have the coordination to unlock his own apartment at the moment. Thankfully they were on the right side of town; Jongho would have a long walk him but he didn’t much mind the distance if it meant Wooyoung go home safely.

They walked silently the entire way, Wooyoung using Jongho to stay upright as the walked without a word shared between them. They came up to Wooyoung’s apartment relatively fast but as Jongho reached forward to unlock the door, Wooyoung slid in front of him, blocking his access and stopping Jongho in his tracks.

“If I… invited you inside… what would you say?” Wooyoung asked, his eyes downcast and voice so unsure of himself. Jongho really hoped he was reading the mood correctly, or else things were about to get horribly awkward.

“I would tell you that it's late, you’ve had a long day and should get some rest. You’re also very drunk and I could never… take advantage of the situation like that…” He said, hoping that he was correct in his assumption and ignoring the fact that he had already selfishly indulged in a make-out session with the man when he could barely stand on his own.

Wooyoung sighed as if he expected such an answer.

“I figured,” he chuckled. “And if we weren’t drunk?”

Jongho didn’t know what to say; he didn’t even know the answer to such a question himself. He remembered Yeosang’s words, suddenly very terrified of leading the man on when he himself wasn’t even sure what these feelings were. He cursed his inexperience, wishing he had some knowledge to draw upon to help him through this situation. He didn’t want to hurt Wooyoung, but he also didn’t want to give him hope only to take it all away from him later down the road.

His indecision must’ve been clear on his face because Wooyoung’s body visibly drooped in disappointment.

“Never mind, forget I asked. It was a dumb question anyway,” he brushed off, trying his hardest to pretend like he was unbothered by Jongho’s lack of a response.

“I would!” Jongho blurted out despite himself. He cringed at his own inability to stick by his decisions especially when Wooyoung had given him such an easy out just then but it was too late to take it back now. He just couldn’t stand the heartbroken look on Wooyoung’s face or deny the fact that he had _really_ enjoyed that kiss. Wooyoung looked up at him in surprise, finally meeting his eyes. “If uhh… If you weren’t… I’d uhh… I’d go in… with you. I’d follow you.”

Wooyoung didn’t push for more, an infectiously happy smile taking over his expression. Jongho quickly busied himself with Wooyoung’s keys, unlocking the door for the man and gesturing stupidly at the now open entryway. Wooyoung giggled, leaning into Jongho’s personal space.

“Thank you for tonight. I know the party wasn’t your idea, but I still appreciate you putting up with me…”

“Of course, hyung. I…uhh…appreciate you a lot too.”

Wooyoung smiled again, leaning up to kiss Jongho’s cheek before tipsily walking into his apartment.

“Such a gentleman,” he teased over his shoulder with a downright devious smirk before closing the door and leaving Jongho behind in the mess he had made of him.


	4. Chapter 4

~*16*~

Jongho forced his eyes open as the sound of someone knocking on his door reached his ears. His limbs felt heavy, his entire body ached, and he felt cold, so very cold with no hope of warmth in sight.

Ever since last week, after Wooyoung’s birthday party and their very embarrassing encounter, Jongho had thrown himself fully into the production of their song. They only had two weeks left until the showcase and Jongho was starting to feel the pressure. He had maybe three good lines done that he could actually use and that was it. His only solace was that Wooyoung’s part was practically complete; it just needed a little refinement and then it was good to go.

But the lyrics… those were another matter entirely. He could hardly think about love and happiness without the horribly confused concoction of feelings he was trying to keep bottled up came spilling into the forefront of his mind. It probably didn’t help either that it seemed his relationship with Wooyoung was under a bit of strain after… well, everything that had transpired on that night.

For the entire weekend, Wooyoung made no attempt to contact him. Jongho had sent a message Saturday morning asking if he was feeling alright after all the alcohol he’d had the night before. He couldn’t help but worry, despite all the cringe he had spouted, so he had swallowed his embarrassment and made the first move. Wooyoung… never responded. Jongho didn’t hold it against him. It was quite a lot to take in, everything that had happened, everything that he had admitted to. A few days to let it all sink in, Jongho felt was more than fair.

But then a few days turned into a full week.

It wasn’t a full week of silence. No, on Monday Wooyoung messaged him, acting like he hadn’t completely ignored Jongho’s previous message and trying to set up their meeting schedule for the week. Jongho tried to talk with the man as he usually did despite his nerves but he was afraid he had come off as stiff and detached regardless. He hadn’t been expecting some grand confession, but he also didn’t want to continue on as the way things had been. He couldn’t fault Wooyoung for falling back into what was comfortable, what was known, instead of developing something new when there was still so much unknown between the two of them. Wooyoung was probably afraid he’d fall into his old failings, falling for someone who was only playing along with his antics. And Jongho was so hopelessly confused by what was happening without his control, he didn’t want to hurt Wooyoung in the process of just trying to make sense of everything.

Even if Jongho wanted to see Wooyoung, however, to discuss whatever it was they had become or even to just fall back into their normal rhythm, he couldn’t. For both of them, this last week had been jam-packed full of events, meetings, courses, and obligations that neither of them could escape from. Whenever Jongho was free, Wooyoung wasn’t and vice versa in an infinite loop. Jongho gave up trying about half-way through the week. There was just too much going on; they should focus on their studies for the time being. As anxious as the deadline made Jongho, he couldn’t avoid more pressing matters in the present because of it.

But, of course, the universe was always out to get him. Around the same time Jongho had given up trying to contact Wooyoung, he began to feel the onset of a cold. He tried to ignore it; he couldn’t get sick, he didn’t have any time for that. He ignored the sore throat, the almost constant headaches, the fatigue that plagues him from the moment he woke up. It only got worse as the week progressed as well. A singer’s worst nightmare, he started losing his voice; an annoyingly persistent cough and a horribly raw throat that made eating practically impossible came with it.

That’s how Jongho found himself laying miserable on his living room couch this Saturday afternoon, drifting in and out of sleep uncontrollably. He knew he had a fever, he knew he had to keep hydrated, to take some medicine to manage his symptoms, to eat at least something but he just couldn’t find the motivation to pull himself off the couch. Everything was just so cold… everything hurt, his eyes were heavy.

But he had to answer the door at the very least. The person was persistent, whoever they were. It must’ve been important.

Jongho rolled off the couch, taking a blanket with him as he went. He knew he looked like a complete mess. His hair was greasy and sticking up every which way. He was ghastly pale and wore three layers in an attempt to stay warm. With his fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he shuffled his way over to the door, he knew he looked exactly as he felt: horrible. He couldn’t exactly fix any of that right now, though, so whoever was at the door would just have to deal with it.

He opened the door, leaning heavily against the frame as he slowly took in the figure on the other side. He should’ve known who it would be but his very sick brain wasn’t exactly functioning properly at the moment.

Wooyoung stood across from him, looking a different version of horrible Thant he kind Jongho felt as he shuffled nervously from foot to foot. Though his outward appearance looked almost completely normal, Jongho could still see the signs of distress. His face was a little puffy, his eyes bloodshot and so very tired… almost like he had been crying… _a lot._ Jongho’s heart dropped to his feet.

“Hyung? What are you doing here?” Jongho whispered; it was all he could force out. Wooyoung’s eyes immediately snapped over to him, his sad expression giving way to shock.

“Oh my God, you look horrible…” Wooyoung said, concern now the dominant emotion. He stepped forward, holding the back of his hand to Jongho’s forehead, eyes going wide as he felt just how warm Jongho was against his cool hand. “Holy shit, you’re burning up.”

“I’m sick,” he explained. It was all he could think to say. He was still trying to figure out why on Earth it looked like Wooyoung had been crying his eyes out. It couldn’t have been because of him, could it?

“No shit,” Wooyoung laughed shortly. Without waiting for an invitation, Wooyoung pushed his way inside, wrapping careful arms around Jongho and leading them both back towards the living room. Jongho went willingly, unable to do much else besides go wherever Wooyoung led him.

He found himself seated right back on the couch where he had started, Wooyoung forcing him to lay down before piling on all the blankets he could find.

“Have you taken anything?” Wooyoung asked, looking at the mess of tissues that Jongho’s coffee table currently was. It was clear Jongho hadn’t been taking very good care of himself and the look on Wooyoung’s face told Jongho he knew it too.

“No,” Jongho whispered, shaking his head.

“Do you have any?”

Jongho pointed towards his bedroom.

“In the bathroom, above the sink,” he forced out. Wooyoung quickly rushed in, returning moments later with a small bottle of pills. He set them on the coffee table but bypassed Jongho in favor of going into the kitchen. Jongho could do nothing but watch as the man opened a few cabinets before he found what he was looking for. Wooyoung pulled a glass out, filled it with ice from the freezer, and then poured as much water as he could fit, filling the glass to the very brim.

“Here,” Wooyoung held it out for him. Jongho sat up slowly, taking the very full glass of water from him with a shaky hand. “And take these, drink the whole glass of water, too. Like within the next fifteen minutes.”

Jongho popped the pills Wooyoung gave him in his mouth before taking a large swig of the water.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice sounding better now that he had fluids in his system again. Wooyoung nodded at him.

“And you say _I_ need to take better care of myself,” he teased with a half-hearted smile. He moved to walk away again but Jongho caught his wrist before he could go far. His sickly brain still needed to know why Wooyoung was here, why he looked so heartbroken, and if there was a way he could fix it.

“Why are you here, hyung?” He asked again. Wooyoung deflated a little, his smile falling from his face.

“What? You not happy to see me?” He was trying to deflect the question, to play everything off as a joke. Jongho wasn’t having any of that. He wasn’t going to let the older man turn his feelings into a joke.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” Jongho said, rubbing the pad of his thumb across the man’s wrist in a way he hoped was comforting. Wooyoung looked down at his hand before meeting Jongho’s eyes once again. “You can tell me anything, hyung.”

He mumbled something in response but Jongho’s clogged sinuses couldn’t make any sense of it.

“What?” He asked quietly. Wooyoung wouldn’t look at him.

“I said, it’s because I thought you were avoiding me,” he mumbled only slightly louder. But Jongho heard it this time. “And I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” Jongho said. He set his glass down on the table, sitting up further to grab both of Wooyoung’s hands though his body screamed for him to lie back down. He ignored the need, instead, pulling gently until Wooyoung fell complacently into his lap. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to happen but Wooyoung’s warmth felt oh-so-nice against his chilled body, so he rolled with it. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Wooyoung laughed, shaking his head at Jongho’s words.

“I was at first. I… I didn’t mean to cross so many boundaries last week and I thought you might be… I dunno uncomfortable with me.” Wooyoung buried his face in Jongho’s shoulder as he spoke, clearly very embarrassed but forcing his way through the explanation.

“I meant what I said,” Jongho said, forcing his way through the pain. He had to clear this misunderstanding up no matter how awful he felt. Wooyoung moved to be able to look at Jongho once more, his eyes wide with shock.

“All of it?” Jongho knew what he was referring to, and if he wasn’t horribly sick he might’ve had more shame, but all he wanted was to see Wooyoung’s smile again. To never be the reason he cried again.

“All of it,” he agreed, swallowing thickly so that he could continue talking. Wooyoung’s cheeks dusted pink. “I wasn’t avoiding you, we both just got so busy. I’m sorry for making you feel that way.”

“I should’ve tried harder to contact you,” Wooyoung said. “I’m sorry, too.”

“You’re here now,” Jongho said; Wooyoung giggled.

“Good thing too, because you’re awful at taking care of yourself,” he said, a teasing smile appearing on his face. He leaned in close, resting his forehead against Jongho’s. “And now you’re going to get me sick.”

“You’re the one who keeps getting closer,” Jongho teased. Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“You’re the one who pulled me here in the first place,” Wooyoung countered. His expression turned serious after a beat of content silence passed between them: “So we’re okay? Nothing… weird?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Jongho agreed, Wooyoung smiled at him.

“If only you weren’t sick,” Wooyoung tsked with an exaggerated eye roll. He leaned forward, kissing Jongho’s forehead instead. Jongho hummed, pulling the warmth Wooyoung had to offer a little closer. “You’re going to have to let me go.”

“But you’re so warm,” Jongho whined, though he reluctantly did as was asked of him.

“We can cuddle after you eat something. When was the last time you ate something?” Wooyoung asked as he stood up, going back into Jongho’s kitchen. He didn’t say anything in response, unsure of the answer to that question himself. “I thought so. You just stay there, and I’ll make us dinner, okay?”

“Okay.”

An hour later with the medicine kicking in and a full stomach of Wooyoung’s—notably delicious—food, found the two of them curled up together on the couch once more. Having Wooyoung snuggled beneath all his blankets on top of Jongho’s chest, he felt absolutely at ease despite how sick he still was. It was all just so natural… so right, and Jongho wouldn’t trade this moment for the world.

~*17*~

Jongho set his pencil down with a sigh, looking over everything he had just written with a critical eye. He was… getting there. They didn’t have much time left, though, so he would just have to hope that it was good enough to get him just where he needed to be. That’s all he wanted at this point.

After spending the weekend recovering from his cold under Wooyoung’s watchful eye, he felt well enough by Monday to return to their normal schedule. His voice was still gone so tea and honey had become his best friend, but for the most everything was back to the way it had been in that regard.

Something that had changed—though Jongho really couldn’t say that he minded—was the dynamic that his relationship with Wooyoung worked under. All their free time now was practically spent exclusively in each other’s company. Wooyoung held nothing back anymore, leaning close, touching him whenever he could, leaving kisses along his skin if he could get away with it. Jongho surprised himself with just how okay he was with all of this. He might go so far as to say that he _liked_ it. And if perhaps he returned the attention Wooyoung gave him on occasion, neither of them was going to complain about that either. He just loved the way Wooyoung practically preened under the positive attention; always smiling oh-so beautifully at him in such a way that made his heart skip a beat every time.

“What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asked, tapping his feet on top of Jongho’s under the table where they had been since they sat down.

“It’s nothing,” Jongho brushed off, looking up from his paper and meeting Wooyoung’s curious eyes. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” He asked, tilting his head.

Jongho felt like he had just been hit with a brick all of a sudden, realization coursing through his veins like electricity.

Everything about the man across from him. From his utterly handsome features, the mole under his eye, the way the sunlight danced off his tan skin and pretty purple hair, making him practically glow like an angel sent straight from heaven. To his gorgeous smile that Jongho was sure he’d never get tired of, his obnoxiously loud laugh that was just so endearing, the way he constantly sought physical contact to show his friendship, to show how much he cared, to show how much he loved. His selfless personality, always putting others before himself, so bubbly, so energetic, so optimistic, showing Jongho how to be those things once again.

There was just no denying it at this point, try as he might to continue to hide the facts from everyone, including himself.

He was in love with one Jung Wooyoung.

Damn, he hated it when Yeosang was right.

“You,” Jongho breathed, his answer completely honest. Wooyoung blushed at Jongho’s for once ver forward answer.

“Oh… I uhh…” Wooyoung spluttered, but Jongho had already moved on. He had a lot of work to do now… He’d found it. His muse. His reason to write a song. His real-life experience. He stood up, hastily throwing all his stuff in his backpack. “Where are you going?”

“I just had an idea,” Jongho explained, making to leave the room. He paused before he left completely, leaving a kiss on the man’s cheek. Wooyoung turned even redder. “As always, you’re my answer to everything. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Wooyoung nodded, too shocked to form any words.

Jongho left in a hurry, already forming exactly the kind of song he wanted to create to portray everything he was feeling towards who had become the most precious person in his life.

~*18*~

For the next few days, Jongho didn’t leave his home, focused entirely on one thing and one thing only. He _had_ to get this right. Every word needed to be in exactly the right spot. Every beat perfectly executed to convey just how strongly he felt. The dynamics, the crescendos, the vocal runs, the emotion. There was so much he had to balance, so much riding on his ability to portray his feelings properly. He had been so stupidly confused just days before and he couldn’t say he had it all figured out even now, but that was his promise to Wooyoung. That even though he might not always show it, or even know the answers to every question himself, he would be by his side through it all.

He worked tirelessly until he had enough lines to make a full song. The hard part came with the musicality of the piece, making the words fit the melody he and Wooyoung had spent months crafting and carefully cultivating. The finished file Wooyoung had sent him was so full of memories, little messages Wooyoung had left in between lines of musical notes. They were mostly notes for himself: remember this is sharp, don’t forget to count, crescendo here big time. But there were also little suggestions and words of confidence that he was sure Wooyoung had added in before sending it off to Jongho: your voice would sound good at this note here, up the octave, let your inner Mariah Carey out, we’re gonna blow them outta the park with this one.

Jongho couldn’t help but smile as he worked, even as he burned himself out through the last few days before the deadline. Fitting the lyrics to the music was the hardest part. Changing a few words to better fit the measure, matching their melodies in some parts and contrasting them in others, rearranging notes and turning a few sharp or flat depending on the situation. Lots of things to balance, so little time to finish it all. He could’ve gotten it all done faster if he didn’t also have all his class obligations to finish as well. It seemed just when he thought he had a completely open day, another assignment would get added on. He was doing his best to manage everything, and when he finally completed the song, he couldn’t help the feeling of strong accomplishment.

He had Hongjoong look over everything when he finally pulled it off. The older man couldn’t give him any actual advice, making sure Jongho knew he had to be impartial towards any of the applicants he’d be helping moderate. Regardless, Hongjoong had slid him a discreet thumbs up and a very vague text message about how he really liked the lyrics. That had only confirmed everything Jongho had been thinking. He’d poured all his feelings into his work. If he hadn’t created a convincing love song after everything he’d been through, Jongho wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to pull it off.

He made sure, though, during the few days of isolation he had spent working, that he kept in touch with Wooyoung. He wasn’t about to make that mistake ever again. Though they hadn’t met in person due to Jongho’s self-set work schedule, he always made sure to humor Wooyoung’s ever-present barrage of text messages. One new thing that the man had taken to doing as well was sending Jongho an array of pictures, sometimes of scenes he had found entertaining around campus, sometimes of himself, always with an inspirational message in an effort to keep his spirits high. He really appreciated it and he really hoped Wooyoung knew that despite his sporadic response rate.

When he shared the completed song with Wooyoung, he made sure that there was no trace of the lyrics anywhere within the file. He wanted to make sure the first time he heard what Jongho had to say was on that stage where they would accomplish their goals together. He thought that it would be fitting. Wooyoung always had such a flair for the dramatic, Jongho wanted to return his enthusiasm tenfold, to make sure there could be no misunderstanding about what he wanted out of this relationship. He felt torn by the end of the semester approaching. Completely relieved that he had managed to make it all the way to the end with a song he could be proud of, but utterly heartbroken that his excuse to spend so much time with Wooyoung was about to disappear. He couldn’t help but worry that perhaps, he had been reading too far into Wooyoung’s naturally clingy and affectionate ways. He knew it was silly, and he knew Wooyoung was probably constantly worrying about the same things, but he couldn’t help the small voice in the back of his head that constantly whispered doubts in his ear.

But then he would see Wooyoung’s smile again and was reminded why it was worth the risk, why he had to put himself all out on the line or forever regret not taking that chance.

They met up the night before to practice the piece together. Jongho hummed along, not wanting to strain his voice due to some of the strenuous sections he had written for himself. That was mainly just an excuse as well to keep the lyrics a secret just a little bit longer despite how Wooyoung begged and pleaded to be graced with the knowledge a day early. Jongho had resisted, though Wooyoung put up quite the fight. His pout was adorable, but it fell quickly from his face when Jongho discovered just how ticklish the man was with an accidental nudge to his side to get him to move. Their productivity had dropped for a while when Wooyoung had _also_ discovered that Jongho was ticklish if caught off-guard and well… Jongho couldn’t say he disliked distraction.

All that was left to do after that, was perform the song. And Jongho could only hope and pray that everything went the way he needed it to. He’d had to lose so many great loves in his life, he’d had to let them go, but this one… this was one was worth fighting for till the—hopefully not—bitter end.

~*19*~

“Are you nervous?”

“No… Are you?”

“Terrified.”

Jongho was only being honest but it was for a different reason than what Wooyoung was probably thinking. Whether or not he placed in the top ten of all the students performing today felt like such an insignificant problem in his mind compared to what else he was hoping to accomplish. He logically knew it should be the other way around, but he couldn’t help the way he was feeling. There was a lot riding on this song… It _had_ to go well.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Wooyoung asked, eyebrows knit, and concern clear as day on his face He slid his free hand comfortingly down Jongho’s arm until he laced their fingers gently together. They stood backstage, between the curtains as they waited in line for their turn. Any minute now they would be called onto the stage. The last participant had already left the stage; the judges were finishing up their notes and final thoughts before moving on to whoever was next. Jongho took a deep breath, letting himself be comforted by Wooyoung’s touch. He squeezed his hand in reassurance. They could do this. They could do this.

“You’ve already done so much,” Jongho said quietly.

“That doesn’t mean I’m just gonna stop,” Wooyoung teased, bumping their shoulders together. Jongho laughed.

“There’s just no stopping you, is there?”

“Nope!” He popped the ‘p’ dramatically. Jongho was so very endeared. What would he do without this little ray of sunshine in his life? He didn’t want to even entertain the thought.

“I’ll be okay,” Jongho finally answered the question. “Just listen to the lyrics for me okay?”

“As if I’d be able to tune out your vocals,” he retorted with an eye-roll and a playful smile. Jongho shook his head with a laugh; he should’ve known he’d get that response.

They fell into a silence then, their hands still intertwined as Jongho braced himself for what was to come. It was only another minute till Jongho’s name was being called to take the stage, but it seemed to stretch on for hours. They finally let go of each other’s hands to allow Wooyoung to properly carry his instrument. Both of them walked out together, bowing to the professors who would be their judges on this Friday afternoon. Jongho caught Hongjoong’s eyes as they all waited for Wooyoung to tune his instrument. He gave Jongho a confident smile and a very quick thumbs up when no one else was looking. Jongho appreciated the support even though he knew being friends with the man would give him absolutely no advantage over the other candidates. Hongjoong held very little sway over the final decision as a Teacher’s assistant but the added show of confidence in him was always welcome.

He looked to Wooyoung before they started, receiving a bright smile to tell him he was ready to go whenever he was. He nodded and Wooyoung’s expression turned serious as he got into the proper position.

He played the opening few lines, a small intro before Jongho’s vocals; somber, slow, full of longing and emotion exactly how they had discussed. This was it. It was now or never. Succeed or fail, he had to start somewhere.

He sang his piece, sang the lyrics he had poured everything he was feeling into, had poured his heart into. He held absolutely nothing back, utilizing every vocal trick he had studied over the past year to make it all that much more impactful, meaningful, powerful. He wanted there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind that what he was singing about was all one-hundred-percent true because there was absolutely none in Jongho’s.

The song started slow and quiet by design, making the build-up more dramatic, mirroring the slow build of his emotions over time. Then, when it seemed the song had reached its peak, the two of them took another step forward together. The violin played masterfully by Wooyoung and Jongho’s vocals melded together perfectly, Wooyoung’s passion shining through and taking the piece to a whole new level.

When Jongho reached the apex of the whole song, a high note that pushed the boundaries of his voice, he very clearly saw the shock and awe on his professors’ faces; Hongjoong’s jaw dropped entirely before he quickly composed himself again. Jongho closed his eyes, letting everything this song stood for wash over him. Affection and warmth bloomed in his chest as he lamented his inability to express his feelings properly, how it had taken him so long to recognize what was right in front of him, and how from this point forward he vowed to spend the rest of their time together hopelessly devoted and utterly mesmerized.

The violin matched his voice at the end, each note following the other to bring the whole piece to the perfect, hopeful ending, suggesting that there was still more to this story. When Jongho finally opened his eyes once more, relief over everything being out in the open at last washed over him. He’d done it. He’d written a song and performed it beautifully with an absolutely amazing musician by his side. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly what he had been picturing at the start of the semester, but he couldn’t care less. He had more than enough to be proud of at this moment.

The two of them bowed to their small audience as they clapped politely, keeping any hint of emotion off their faces to appear impartial. Then, Wooyoung and Jongho left the stage the opposite way they had come on. Jongho couldn’t look at his partner, not yet at least. He wanted to wait, just until they could be alone. Wooyoung broke away from him at some point, going in search of his instrument’s case and a place to safely stow it away for the time being. Jongho continued out into the foyer of the auditorium. He found a quiet spot next to a large window overlooking a snowy courtyard and waited for Wooyoung to meet back up with him.

It was another ten minutes, Jongho watching the sunlight dance across the frozen branches of a nearby tree, before Wooyoung found him. He was quiet as he approached—Jongho’s first sign that something wasn’t quite right—walking up and standing next to him without a word. Another minute passed before Wooyoung finally said anything.

“That was…” His voice was quiet and shaky. “Wow.”

The quiet sniffle drew Jongho’s attention from the window. Much to his surprise, Wooyoung’s eyes were full of unshed tears.

“Wooyoung,” Jongho cooed. He turned to the man the exact moment Wooyoung did to him. He opened his arms and Wooyoung fell into him, burying his face in his neck as he let the tears flow freely, his shoulders shaking lightly. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“That was just… so beautiful,” Wooyoung told him. “I don’t know where you pulled all that from all of a sudden but it was so emotional and loving and…and… perfect. It was perfect.”

Jongho hugged him a little tighter before Wooyoung pulled away to look at him now instead.

“Whenever you do find that someone,” he added. “They really are lucky to have someone like you.”

“I think I may have already found them,” Jongho said, feeling oh-so-very nervous. He realized he should’ve been less vague entirely too late. Wooyoung’s expression turned darker, much more upset as his entire being practically drooped in sadness upon hearing Jongho’s words.

“Oh…” His voice cracked over the syllable, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“No, no, no,” Jongho quickly interjected, bending down to get back into Wooyoung’s line of sight. He needed to clear this misunderstanding up as fast as possible, his nerves be damned. “I meant you, hyung.”

Wooyoung’s head snapped back up, looking at Jongho with wide eyes.

“You… what? You’re serious?” He whispered. “Like you’re not joking right now, right?”

“No,” Jongho shook his head. “I mean it, I—… I’ve fallen in love with you.”

When Wooyoung didn’t say anything, a faraway look in his stunned eyes, Jongho continued, unsure of what else to do.

“It’s why I was able to write that song at all. All this time, I was struggling to write something like that, and my answer was right in front of me. Hyung, I really, _truly,_ meant everything I said on your birthday and everything I sang just now. I lov—”

He was abruptly cut off, forced to stop rambling as Wooyoung stepped close to him, a hand sliding up his jawline before their lips were connected in an instant. Jongho melted into the man, more than content to let him take the lead. It was a deep kiss, stealing Jongho’s breath away and leaving him unable to think of anything but the man holding him close.

Wooyoung pulled away only slightly, just enough to be able to speak to him. He smiled so happily at him then, his eyes turning to crescents, practically glowing as bright as the very sun. Jongho’s heart skipped a few beats. _Beautiful._

“You should’ve said so sooner,” Wooyoung laughed. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear those words come out of your mouth.”

“So you’ll go out with me?”

“As if you even have to ask after all that.”

Jongho let Wooyoung kiss him again, uncaring who happened to be passing by as they were lost in their own little world. He owed so much to the man who held him so sweetly in that moment. The man who always so selfishly put everyone before himself. Who was as kind and considerate as an angel and as beautiful as one too. Who wore his heart on his sleeve, who stayed happy and optimistic no matter the horrible things life threw at him. The man who had taught Jongho what true passion looked like, who had taught him how to love again.

He wasn’t sure what the future held for the two of them, but one thing was for certain. Jongho would always be hopelessly mesmerized by the music.

~*20*~

Wooyoung had been fidgeting for the last half-hour but Jongho hadn’t found a good way to ask why yet without sounding annoyed. He definitely wasn’t, only curious as to why his boyfriend couldn’t find it in him to sit still.

This was technically their first date; though, looking back on the last semester, Jongho would’ve called his birthday their first date. This was the first time it was being called what it actually was from the beginning, though, so Jongho supposed it deserved the title anyway.

They hadn’t done anything too special; neither of them needing grand gestures to know how much the other cared, but Wooyoung had insisted they do at least _something_ to celebrate the scholarship award list’s release. Jongho had placed, much to his utter shock, right smack dab in first place, earning himself not only enough money to cover his schooling with what he already had saved but an extra sum of money on top of that for being the best his year had to offer. He had broken down into tears for the first time in a while when he read the email; the relief and shock rushing through him too much for his stressed and sleep-deprived brain to handle. No one was happier for him than Wooyoung was, though, pulling him into a tight embrace and refusing to let go until Jongho stopped crying.

So that’s how Jongho found himself dressing up all fancy and taking his boyfriend—he’d never get tired of saying that—out to a dinner he actually had to make a reservation for a few days ago. He had paid for it all, quoting his new “payday” as reason to splurge a bit even though the idea had been Wooyoung’s, to begin with. He enjoyed spoiling Wooyoung, so perhaps there were also some selfish motives behind that, too. He would forever chase after that gorgeous smile, Jongho was sure of it.

After dinner, since neither of them had wanted to call it a night, they walked through the light dusting of snow to Jongho’s apartment. Wooyoung had raided his closet, changing into more comfortable clothes for lounging and looking just as gorgeous swallowed up by one of Jongho’s large hoodies as he had in the button up he wore to dinner. Jongho had changed too. Then, with the both of them comfortable, they had fallen into the bed by request of Wooyoung so that they could lay down together easier, having moved the TV so that they could still watch a movie. It was the sequel to the colorful one they had watched the last time Wooyoung was over and Jongho wasn’t sick. Wooyoung had put it on, again moving Jongho into the exact position he wanted him in. Jongho did what was silently asked of him each time but as the movie progressed, Wooyoung only seemed to grow more and more antsy. Jongho hadn’t thought much of it at first; Wooyoung always had a hard time sitting still so he had figured this was a normal occurrence. It didn’t bother him; he enjoyed the different ways Wooyoung’s body fit against his; but as time progressed, he couldn’t help but feel like Wooyoung was wordlessly trying to convey something to him and Jongho just wasn’t picking up on the hints.

Forty-five minutes into the movie, Wooyoung gave up trying to be subtle, much to both Jongho’s shock and relief.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Wooyoung said out of nowhere, sitting up to grab the remote and pause the movie entirely. He threw it away from him without a care in the world after that before climbing on top of Jongho, a dangerous expression on his face. “I know you’re over here being the perfect gentleman and keeping the first date PG and all that but I’m sorry. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Without warning as soon as he finished speaking, their lips were crashing together with such force their teeth clinked. Jongho barely got over his shock as Wooyoung came at him unrelenting. He maneuvered himself on top of Jongho’s legs, straddling his thighs and pressing against him so every inch of their bodies touched as their lips slotted together. Had he known this was what was on Wooyoung’s mind since they got home, he would’ve done something a lot sooner. Jongho didn’t have a ton of dating experience; he just didn’t want to ruin the mood due to his lack of thereof. But with Wooyoung initiating something like this, he was way more than eager to follow along. He was definitely willing to learn if Wooyoung was offering to teach.

Their kiss went on for what felt like ages, but Jongho wasn’t complaining. He loved the feeling of Wooyoung’s plush lips against his own, so soft, so sweet. Loved the feeling of his tongue against his, the way his open mouth felt when Jongho slipped his inside: warm, slick, very, _very_ hot. Wooyoung’s hands roamed all over Jongho’s body, slipping under his shirt to feel the very same skin he had drooled over a month ago when he had been unable to touch. He wasn’t missing that chance again, warm hands pushing his shirt up until Jongho caught on and pulled it off entirely.

“You have no idea the kind of thoughts that went through my head during Yeosang’s study group that day,” Wooyoung murmured against his skin, moving lower to kiss at his neck, biting occasionally as he traveled lower. “I just wanted to touch so bad.”

Jongho didn’t say anything, afraid of what his voice might sound like with the way Wooyoung was making him feel. Wooyoung’s lips left searing kisses along Jongho’s chest; it all felt so good, everything was beginning to feel heated. This was further than they had gone before, developing past just a heated make-out session and Jongho was beginning to get more and more excited by the idea, a needy ache starting to form between his legs. He didn’t have to wonder if Wooyoung was feeling the same way; it was apparent in the frantic way he kissed and the growing hardness he felt against his own the longer this went on.

When Wooyoung finished kissing and licking every part of his chest, he moved back up to Jongho mouth, forcing his tongue inside with no warning. Jongho surprised himself by the noise that escaped him, unable to hold back the moan of pleasure at the action. He felt Wooyoung smile into their kiss.

Feeling spurred on by the little whimpers and sighs that were starting to pour from Wooyoung’s lips, Jongho began to feel his own way along Wooyoung’s body. He tried to slip beneath Wooyoung’s shirt but he caught Jongho’s hands before he could do so, instead, leading them lower. Jongho understood well enough. Ever since seeing Wooyoung’s absolutely tantalizing thighs in tight dance attire, he’d wanted to grab a handful; not to even mention the filthy thoughts he’d held at bay about the man’s perfectly rounded ass. There was just no denying it, Wooyoung was perfect in every way in Jongho’s eyes. He gave in to the temptation—Wooyoung was inviting him to touch anyway—and felt his way along the tight muscles of Wooyoung’s thighs. He fidgeted under Jongho’s ministrations, sighing against his lips and outright whining when Jongho took the leap to finally get a handful of the man’s ass. Wooyoung lurched forward at the feeling, forcing a wonderful friction between the two of them that left them both groaning at the feeling. Wooyoung broke their kiss, panting against his lips, resting his forehead against Jongho’s. His eyes were closed, a sweat beginning to break over his tan skin, his face flushed an oh-so-pretty red.

“Are you…” He started to ask. “Are you okay with going further?”

Jongho felt an anxious excitement wash over him at those words. He nodded his head enthusiastically as he could. Wooyoung giggled, looking down at him through lidded eyes now. He couldn’t believe what was happening. A literal god wanted to have sex with _him_ of all people. Inexperienced or not, he wasn’t about to let that chance get away from him.

“How do you want to do this?” Wooyoung asked him next, voice quiet and serious. “I can go either way.”

It took Jongho a moment to understand what Wooyoung was suggesting but when he finally got it, he knew what to say, even though he was sure Wooyoung was going to argue with him about it.

“What do you want, hyung?” He asked. “Be selfish for once, I won’t mind.”

Wooyoung regarded him with a wide-eyed expression for a moment, clearly not having expected that. Much to Jongho’s own shock, Wooyoung didn’t put up a fight. He got up from the bed, flying back into the living room and returning with his winter coat in hand. He unzipped an inside pocket, pulling out a length of condoms and an unopened, palm-sized bottle of lube. Jongho realized that Wooyoung must’ve been planning this from the start. Had he known; he would’ve done more to prepare but it was too late now. Wooyoung threw the items on the bed next to Jongho, discarding his jacket before pulling off the hoodie he had stolen from Jongho. Jongho couldn’t help but stare at the expanse of smooth skin that had just been revealed to him for the first time. Wooyoung was slighter than him, both in waist and shoulder size, but he had the physique of a dancer. Muscles toned only where they needed to be, pulled taunt, or left soft. It was all so gorgeous to look at.

“Be selfish for once,” Wooyoung mimicked as he crawled back onto the bed. “If that’s what you want, who am I to deny?”

The look in Wooyoung’s eyes was intense, dark, and dangerous, and Jongho was absolutely living for it. The next few minutes went by in a flash. Wooyoung wasted no time getting right to it, his choice becoming evident to Jongho when the man slipped his pants off and began pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingers.

“I’ve never done this before,” Jongho told him when he felt a lube-slick finger probe between his legs. He figured that was an important little detail to mention. Wooyoung kissed him sweetly in response.

“We’ll take it slow,” Wooyoung assured him quietly, pressing forward and getting things started. The act of prepping took a lot longer than Jongho had been expecting; though, he guessed that was because Wooyoung was trying to make him as comfortable as possible. It was a strange feeling at first, one that gave way to a dull, burning pain and then finally a hint of pleasure began to seep through, enough to leave Jongho’s thighs shaking as Wooyoung ruthlessly fingered him open, stroking his dick at the same pace to compliment the pleasure and offset whatever pain he might still feel.

Wooyoung situated himself between Jongho’s spread legs when Jongho assured him he felt ready, slipping on a condom before getting into place. He pushed in slowly, pausing to let Jongho breathe through the process when it looked like it was becoming too much.

Jongho could hardly wrap his head around what was happening. Wooyoung was fully seated inside him, cock rubbing pleasantly at his insides as he kissed him through the adjustment. Wooyoung shifted on top of him, waiting for the go-ahead. Jongho could practically feel him holding back, threatening to snap and give in to the pleasure at any moment but still, he waited.

Jongho gasped quietly when Wooyoung began slowly grinding his hips into him; Wooyoung groaned at the friction.

“You feel so fucking good,” Wooyoung whispered directly into his ear right before groaning deeply in the back of his throat and biting at Jongho’s neck. The pleasure was intense and Wooyoung was hardly even moving yet. A burning deep within in him that grew larger and more uncontrollable as Wooyoung began to thrust into him properly. Choked moans squeezed past his lips, his eyes clenched shut, hands gripping Wooyoung’s sweat-slicked shoulders tightly. Wooyoung whispered filthy words into his ear mixed with eloquent words of love, bringing Jongho even higher just by his voice alone.

At one point, Jongho gave up trying to be quiet at all, letting his voice show Wooyoung just how good he was making him feel. Every expert thrust inside followed by deep rolls of his hips before he pulled out again drove Jongho absolutely crazy. It was so much and not enough all at once; Jongho pushed back against Wooyoung’s thrusts, forcing him deeper, harder, faster.

“Jongho,” Wooyoung whispered. “Look at me.”

He did as was asked of him, receiving quite the exquisite sight as a reward. Wooyoung’s purple hair was plastered to his flushed face, a look of absolute lust directed solely at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Jongho breathed out, unable to keep it from slipping out; Wooyoung smiled at him, a breathless laugh echoing wonderfully in Jongho’s ears. Wooyoung kissed him, grinding his hips deep into Jongho until he was seeing white and a pleasure so intense reached its peak. He couldn’t control the groan that left his mouth, trying his best to return the frantic kiss that was basically only tongue and teeth by this point. Wooyoung froze up when his own orgasm washed over him, releasing deep inside Jongho’s ass before slowly pulling out and collapsing against Jongho’s messy chest.

He buried his face in Jongho’s neck as he came, panting hard and in sync with Jongho.

“I love you,” he mumbled against his skin between heaves for air. He didn’t wait for Jongho’s response, instead getting up to take off the condom and properly dispose of it. Jongho grabbed his discarded T-shirt, wiping off his chest and Wooyoung’s when he returned to the bed too. They both fell back into mattress then, burrowing under the blankets and well on their way to falling asleep.

“Can I stay the night?” Wooyoung asked into Jongho’s chest.

“You’re not going anywhere after that,” Jongho joked. He felt the man smile against his chest.

“Maybe later you can show me what you can do.”

“Hmm, I could try my best.”

“Think you can handle me, though? I like it rough,” he purred. Jongho’s mouth went dry at such a tantalizing thought. Wooyoung giggled at his very obvious reaction.

“We’ll take it slow,” Wooyoung amended, a veiled promise that they didn’t have to do anything he was uncomfortable with.

“I’m not worried,” Jongho assured him.

They settled into a pleasant silence, limbs heavy, and muscles absolutely relaxed as they rode out the dopamine high their orgasms had brought them. Before they fell asleep entirely however, there was one thing Jongho still had to do.

“And Wooyoung?” He asked. Wooyoung hummed sleepily to show that he was listening. “I love you, too.”

~*End*~


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